Finding out my truth — The square, sun-washed photo showed my birth mother — strawberry blonde curls stacked on top of her head wearing a Chelsea collared shirt, denim bell bottoms and me, perched on her hip. The pages of the baby book are filled with moments — my moments — written in her big…

And five months away from Medium — Part One The blue hug-a-tree ceramic coffee mug sat on the corner of the small sink area in my new rental home. It was 5 am and I woke up, again, to my geriatric dog’s whines initiated by the sound of my alarm. …

And has a prescription pad Nirvana was right. Everyday was like Sunday. “Are you treating me for bipolar?” This is my opening question during my sixth appointment with the nurse practitioner who is prescribing me Lithium with a side of antipsychotics. I was finally well enough to ask this question…

And other tales from the ER Part 3 My newly emptied hospital room was an acknowledgement. Proof I wasn’t crazy about being crazy. I rested knowing I was safer from myself. The southern drawls of the home renovation experts kept me company. Safe sounds that comforted instead of triggered. Eventually, there came…

Probably not the ER — Part Two I opened the heavy, solid, wood door. Clothes scattered the floor as my youngest slept in their childhood bed. The one they insisted we keep when we moved from our family home to this new rental. “Bubs, I’m going to go to the ER.” Their voice was crackly as their…

And five months away from Medium — Part One The blue hug-a-tree ceramic coffee mug sat on the corner of the small sink area in my new rental home. It was 5am and I woke up, again, to my geriatric dog’s whines initiated by the sound of my alarm. …

An equipment upgrade One year later. It was another hot, humid, August day in Northern Virginia. As I sat in my car outside my house, I watched my ex-husband load the rower on top of his new SUV. And I was pissed. Because that machine was the only thing that…

Becoming a prideful mother The signs I was reading — posted in people’s yards and hanging from storefronts — wouldn’t have caused me any discomfort five years ago. Flags and painted plywood that read short testimonies like, “Guns, God and Trump” “Proud Dixie Rebel” and “MAGA 2024” accessoried with the…

A custody battle over the lethal children Almost a year after my ex-husband moved out of our house, his frenzied unraveling began. And when it started, I was grateful for what my former self did ten months earlier on a cool Autumn night. It was an August afternoon, a year…