The Plight of Platitudes

The Plight of Platitudes

  As the sun rises here on the porch of the homeless shelter, the house’s cat ambles up beside me. I scratch and caress her head. Her silky black fur seems too soft for a cat. She purrs and nuzzles my hand. She also wants to be fed. If we traded places, would...
Minding the Bubbles of Me

Minding the Bubbles of Me

It’s rather intriguing, this conglomerate of selves I collectively call me. That is of course depending upon which self is observing. Others of us find it confusing, irritating, and downright depressing. A therapist might say I struggle with dysregulation. In fact, I...
Pathology or Progress?

Pathology or Progress?

Many nights I toss and turn until I can’t stand it anymore. I lay wondering what past trauma or current conflict is contributing to my sleeplessness until my mind just goes blank. In the early years of recovery, it seemed every waking moment was devoted to objectively...