This is where I come from

This is where I come from.

Vermont. The Country.

Of simple means. A roof over our heads and food in our stomachs.

But not much else.

A wood-burning stove.

An annual trip to the beach.

Friends who saved me but never knew it.

Big brother.

Surviving.

Terror and Dysfunction [not pictured].

Trauma and loss.

This is not your bedtime story.

Bloated faces, soaked in toxicity.

Is that you, Mom?

Yes, yes it was.

Until she Wasn’t.

10-3-2001.

The day you left us.

The day I changed.

Forever.

17 years later.

And it feels like yesterday.

Lightness & Darkness

The light in me sees the light in you.

And that dark glimmer you try so hard to hide? Ya, I see that, too. And that’s where I feel most connected to you.

Because I know how easy it is to check out; to think life is too hard and just throw your hands in the air.

Succumb to the Easy Way.

The heavy weight of your own baggage that threatens to take you in like quicksand.

Feeling like you’ll never figure “it” out.

Being stuck in the past and wanting so badly to know how to break free.

That Despair? Confusion? Shame? Feel that, and know — without a doubt — that we get to come out of that, stronger and wiser than ever, if we chose.

Because that’s the thing – it’s always been Our Choice.

Sometimes people are gonna disappoint us. That’s normal. And sometimes we’ll be a disappointment.

Worst of all, sometimes we will disappoint ourselves.

Today, I urge you to dig deep into the infinite source of self-forgiveness and take as much time as you need — cry, nap, eat, connect, hibernate, practice Self Care like your life depends on it — and then move forward.

‘Cause you always have and you always will. One day at a time.

And if it’s any token, as an equally lost soul once told me: I might not be able to help you get out, but I can sure as hell drag myself right alongside you.

Xo