Month: August 2015

Grief Diary: The Voice

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Fish Of Gold

If things aren’t unbearably terrible in my life, I tend to leave well enough alone. I just go along with it. It’s a survival mechanism; jumping from the frying pan inevitably leads to fire, so I tend to stay crispy. I have accomplished great change, but only when I have few options. If I’m not utterly miserable, if I’m not threatened, I leave things as they are.

This is not the best way to go about life, but it’s the only way I know. For me, life is not about getting ahead at my job or buying a nice new car; it’s about survival. From the time I died as an infant in NICU all the way through child sexual abuse, domestic violence, substance abuse, prostitution, homelessness, traumatic brain injury, etc., my whole life has simply been about surviving from one day to the next, which doesn’t leave a lot…

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My Bucket List of Gratitude – By Lisa Gastaldo

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Kindness Blog

bucket listI’m creating my own kind of bucket list. Not the usual listing of things I wish to do before I leave this earth, but an accounting of the gracious drops of kindness that have filled my pail to the brim.

Whether the contribution was a single drip from an eyedropper or gallons upon gallons of generosity, all have buoyed my soul, washed away hours of pain, and carried me through turbulent trials.

And so I have decided to make a conscious effort to recognize these not-so-random acts. Some were as temporary as the morning dew, but equaling as cooling. Others have been like IVs, injecting nourishment continually. A few were summer storms: electrifying, powerful, and brief. Whether their perpetrators knew it or not, each and every one made a significant impact. They quenched my drought in spirit and left me flooded with gratitude.

Item Number 1: Clean House – Warm…

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I got 99 problems but AWP ain’t 1

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Karrie higgins

Today, I am going to talk about something I don’t talk about publicly in great detail most of the time: being a writer with multiple invisible disabilities and the alienation, exclusion, and profound loneliness I feel because of it. I don’t like to air my grievances because I generally do not trust able-bodied people with this information, not even many of my closest friends. If that hurts anyone’s feelings, I am sorrynotsorry. It is not meant as a criticism or attack on anyone. It comes from a lifetime of feeling left out and misunderstood. It is why I understand the righteous anger of others who experience discrimination.  I know what it feels like when people gaslight you. It feels like shit. It feels like you landed on some cold and alien planet that doesn’t want to share its air.

My experiences as a person with epilepsy, bipolar, PTSD, and Chiari…

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