I found a small spider creeping on my neck last night after we put Augustine to bed. I was drinking my allotted drop of wine with a generous side of raspberry sorbet, trying to relax. The toddler is in a... Continue Reading →
When you're depressed, get a bad haircut. Don't try and get a haircut to cure your depression. Don't bring in photos of when you loved your hair and lived in your favorite city ever and try to recreate that magic.... Continue Reading →
The phrase "new home" sits so poorly with me. Maybe I shouldn't complain. But "home" is supposed to be familiar, cozy, safe: not new, unfamiliar, and dangerous (have I told you about the brown recluse spiders that keep nesting in my... Continue Reading →
Hey New York. I see you in your glory. It's 75' and sunny today. Probably the only true spring day you'll allow this year. The breeze is gentle and the sun is warm. And all the sun-starved souls you hold... Continue Reading →
Whatever the rest of 2017 holds, it's already started off with more than a few hiccups for us. These past four months have been nuts. Let me try to recap. Augustine and I had two cancelled flights in a blizzard... Continue Reading →
There is always that first good day, after a couple weeks in the darkest of places when the mental clouds lift just enough for me to see how wonderful my life is. My lovely little life. And I cry because... Continue Reading →
I don't know why I'm still awake. I only napped for half an hour and that was, now, 12 hours ago. My body doesn't transition well between sleep and awake. I'm notorious for not being a morning person. The things... Continue Reading →
The holidays are my favorite time of year; but also one of my hardest. The bustle, busyiness, financial stress, and expectations are often compounded by the Ghosts of Caitie's Christmas past. I'm in my parents deeptub during the baby's afternoon... Continue Reading →
I'd be lying if I said that I was overwhelmed at the 1500 people who read my blog about what it was like to experience Trump's election as a sexual abuse survivor. (Ok, it'd only be a half lie because... Continue Reading →
C. M. Sangalis 