hello world redux

This is a place for saying things that need to be said, for speaking things that need to be spoken. A place for speaking truth to power and a place for speaking the truth of the powerless.

It is a place of radical acceptance. A journey into darkness and back again.

I’m not quite sure what it is. Yet. But it is going to grow into something powerful and profound, deep and deeply healing.

In a sense, this is my story, my journey. But it is not only my story, it is the story of many. A story that avoids being told. An uncomfortable, painful story. A story of healing. A story of ending violence by acceptance. A story of learning, growing, falling down, and getting back up again.

This is the story of a little girl who had terrible things done to her.

When she grew up, she did terrible things to herself. When she had a child, she started doing terrible things to her own daughter.

This is the story of how she stopped. How I stopped.

Let us begin…


I realized today, sitting in the hospital, waiting for Bri to be seen by the doctor, that I work hard to be “normal”. Not losing my temper, staying calm and reassuring, just being regular people is an exhausting endeavour.

It’s times like this that make me want to give up. Fundamentally, I am tired. I’m tired of being me, I’m tired of working so hard all the time to get myself to “normal”. I am so fucking tired.

A New Day

Every morning is a new day. As I continue to struggle with various aspects of my illness and mind, I realize that I have been depressed and grieving for several months now. Last August, Bryan’s youngest brother Jay was diagnosed with cancer. 24 days later, he died. In between, his parents disowned him and then repented, his ex-girlfriend Katie almost lost her job because she was caring for him, and I helped Katie figure out how to tell their 5-year-old daughter that her daddy was dying.

Then we bought a house. Then I was sick for two months. Then it was February. Who wouldn’t be depressed and grieving?

I still struggle daily with my anger at Jay’s parents for how they treated him. Invoking forgiveness and inviting it in does not seem to lessen my anger and resentment. Letting go is needed, yet I don’t seem to be able to. However, I shall continue to open to forgiveness, seeking a way to let go of the anger and resentment. Someday…

Today is a new day, bright with possibility. I want to make the most of it, to continue on my journey of healing, to cure the pain that still fills my heart. There’s lots to discuss: art, DBT, drugs, ordination, teaching, mental health, mental illness, Zen. I shall endeavour, in the coming weeks and months, to put hands to keyboard and start expressing what is inside of me.

I offer it all for the purpose of helping others.

love and bows to you all…

Random Brain Spewage

Questions I am currently pondering…

  • When is it being aware of my limitations / taking care of myself and when is it buying into the “story”?
  • What do I want to do with my life?
  • When is it ‘frustrated mom’ and when is it ‘first step on the road to being an abuser’?


I feel like I’m walking through a fog, everything grey, misty, and hazy. I’m not sure of anything anymore: my physical health, my mental health, my family, my home. This life does not feel real.

Is that because it is not? Or is it because this life feels pale and wan in comparison to my crisis-filled past? Or is it a little from column a and a little from column b?