Tag: Mental Health

Red White and Blues

would have been, in days past, that the arguments and pain and hurtful words would have thrown me into a spiral. envisioning red ribbons across pale flesh and splashes of life (precious) dripping onto bathroom tiles. forget the sharp blade, I’d reach for the… Continue Reading “Red White and Blues”

Lost Years

A woman holds my hand. I’ve never seen her before but she’s showing me a photograph of a handsome young couple standing in front of a blue Cadillac and now she’s started crying. She keeps asking if I remember him, in the faded photograph,… Continue Reading “Lost Years”

Illusion vs Delusion | REBLOG

I asked my therapist to be very direct with me early on in our sessions…. That’s the thing about honesty. If we can own our feelings and experience, there is nothing to fear about truth. If we can step into OUR authentic selves, we… Continue Reading “Illusion vs Delusion | REBLOG”

White Spaces

it hurts like claws digging inthe betrayalthe wickednessvicious claws tearing, grippingnever letting go it wasn’t just the wordsit was what lay between the wordslies lies lies!and I never saw it comingnever thought it possible how you held my heart in the one handand her… Continue Reading “White Spaces”

Resist

clipping sound byteswe forget pauses andresist spaces of thought tara caribou | ©2022

20 Things I’m Thankful for Today

I was reading another blogger’s post earlier titled the very same thing and I thought, yep, that’s what I need to do this morning. In times of distress and anxiety, I find it best to do this: remain ever grateful. Winter in Alaska The… Continue Reading “20 Things I’m Thankful for Today”

Notes from a Dying Woman

Tossed and turningI am worn out, wrung outLike a dirty dishrag done its workThe beauty of youth, fadedThe wisdom of time, unreachableA tear on the cheek, wastedReplaced by liars and outward appearances Love whispered from the corner of lipsAt convenient moments in the darkLove… Continue Reading “Notes from a Dying Woman”

Thoughts on a Windy November Afternoon

For nineteen years, I was beat and belittled into quiet submission. I was trained to understand I would never measure up. I laughed too loud, I talked too much, I read the wrong things, I didn’t fit in, I didn’t understand my peers. I… Continue Reading “Thoughts on a Windy November Afternoon”

Robert Charboneau.

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