Trauma

Call it by its name

A story which’s name I never dared to say out loud, until now.

A letter to my helpless 4 year old self

And to those of us who had difficult childhood

The Phoenix Rises

After every winter comes the spring
Frost thaws, and in the rays of morning
Darkness recedes, powerless against the light…

Broken Record — An Introduction

It’s past bedtime and I am there in my bed, being good, trying to sleep like I’m supposed to past bedtime. Stuffed dogs, all named, are lined up between my back and the wall. That way it’s safe. My favorite is Pongo, even though he has a piece of orange Tootsie Pop stuck to…

The Changing Face of Trauma

The bed in my mother’s apartment was only large enough for two, at least the way I lay in it, and we took up…