My mind has been going non-stop since last week when I heard of Chester Bennington’s death. I watched and read as my suicide prevention community lit up Facebook with heartbreak and further resolve. Continue reading
Sometimes when I stop to think about it, I feel like a badass. And sometimes, like the past few days, I feel broken. Continue reading
Sometimes I wonder if I just left it at the title? Continue reading
I remember three years ago, I had just closed on my house, and my brother in law was helping me paint before we moved everything in. It was the 4th of July and we were working into the night trying to get Raffi’s room done so that she would feel more “at home” after everything that had happened. I remember vividly the first explosions of the night as dusk fell. My heart started to pound frantically in my chest and I had my first real instance of what PTSD was. Continue reading