Our youngest daughter, a high school freshman, returned home from Japan yesterday morning. She was gone for eight days. While happy for her to travel to and learn about life in another country, we all remained worried and nervous.
Unbeknownst to our youngest daughter, and on the same day she left for Japan, a Malaysian flight
This morning we drove our youngest daughter to SFO to board a flight with fellow schoolmates headed for an eight-day stay in Japan.
Driving my SUV along the freeway to the airport, my husband in the passenger seat beside me, and our youngest in the back with her suitcase
A client once described herself as her mother’s Barbie doll. “Some days, Mom liked Barbie. Other days she hated me.”
I always took special care of my Barbie dolls, all the dolls I received for Christmas and other occasions. I also knew
I abandoned the idea of driving myself to the hospital as I had when the mentally ill son of a minister driving around Berkeley and shooting women, had fired two bullets into my left wrist and two others into my neck. I had been thirty-four years old then, nearly 20 year younger and with no previous concussion.
Three decades of marriage to a surgeon and my experience working as a medical technologist in a blood bank had taught me much about recognizing your limits.
On hearing the woman speak the words, “ … husband … I’m going to call him,” I had thought
by JCT(Loves)Streisand* My first pregnancy occurred when I was twenty-seven. It was planned. A young minister’s wife had said, after hearing my lament the emptiness I was feeling then in the fourth year of my marriage, “You need a child.” This was probably an easy response for her to make in that at twenty-eight […]
I would not suggest that the entire Cherokee nation has a problem with speaking harsh words, both to others and internally. And yet that has been my experience. Growing up with my mother I did not have learn how to reprimand myself. Experience as my mother’s daughter bequeathed me a well-developed inner critic.
I have internalized all her sayings, those spoken to me and for my benefit, along with others generalizing life and others.
My bouts with depression and my predisposition to blame
When I think back on my late teens and early twenties–I met my now husband when I was seventeen years old–I am amazed that I married, that he wanted me and that we have remained together for thirty-two years.vWe’ve known each other thirty-six.
I tried committing suicide, my second attempt, three months after meeting my husband, then boyfriend. We met in August of 1978, my first week as a college freshman. He was a junior, practically 4.0 student, majoring in Chemistry and with aspirations