As soon as Ronnie and I pulled into the driveway, I saw a vehicle with Massachusetts plates. My immediate thought was, fuck.
Till death do us part…Ayup. Marriage is indeed a death sentence. It’s time spent doing all you can to restrain yourself from choking your spouse. I kid, but really… We celebrated eight years this past Tuesday. Even though I joke about murdering him, I still have dreams of losing him to random things like time, space, death, or someone prettier,… Read More
“You don’t know what you’re doing and suddenly it’s done…it evolves out of your own life and night scares.”
I’ve been out of the cult for a total of twenty-four combined years. I left the second time in 2005, so one might think, “it’s been fifteen years since leaving again, lighten up.” I wish I could but something always triggers the panic. Then I realized, that for me, my inner tumult was being stirred by social media.
I have faith that this too shall pass…eventually. And when it does people will remember the kindness, the long-distance smiles, and the clean hand waves.
October 26th I woke with a major hangover. Like bad. I hadn’t felt this hungover since the last time I drank; which was on my stepdaughter’s birthday in June.
I haven’t had a drink in over 145 days. During my last alcohol-induced hangover, I puked once the husband and I got home. I had a tooth filling scheduled for the next day, and while sitting in the dentist’s chair—mouth gaping open, hoping to Beelzebub I didn’t puke all over the dentist—I realized I never wanted to feel that again.