Yes, It Was Rape

 You are 22. You are married to an abusive man. You have to watch everything you say and be careful with every move you make. He is downstairs in your townhouse and you are upstairs in the bedroom, alone, like you are most every night, watching television. He is with his friends and with his brother also. It is Christmas night and you have spent the day with his family....more

The Reason I Write

A few weeks ago, I was perusing the Twitter world and stumbled upon an adoptive mother's profile. It read this:“Hate my adopted kids. Please Help. Need hope.”...more

My Mother in the Mirror: A Legacy of Depression

I remember standing outside my mother’s walk-in closet, listening to her sob for what felt like an eternity, on multiple occasions during elementary school.Pain and tears were something she taught me, quite literally, to hide behind closed doors....more

What Kept Me Sane During my Divorce

When we are going through separation and divorce, that sense of overwhelm, especially in our personal lives, can feel like we’re drowning, with nobody there to throw us a rope or life preserver. These feelings of chaos and panic are usually compounded with the fact that we are not sure what to do, and when to do it. Should-do’s and checklists and well-intentioned advice from multiple sources seem to contradict one another....more

Giving the Gift of a Good Death to a Good Friend

Today I had the honor to stand by the deathbed of a dear and loyal friend.  Today I had the privilege of being with him to ease him out of this life.  And today I also had the responsibility of deciding that it was time for that life to end.Today we put our dog to sleep....more

Forever 39 and always

This post first appeared on Mona Andrei's personal blog, Moxie-Dude.<em>Today’s post is from the archives. If you’re new to this blog, July 25th is my brother’s birthday. He would have been 48 years old. While this story is about his demise, I like to repost it on the day he was born. I guess it’s my way of celebrating his life – because his death SUCKED. Possibly I’m still a little upset with the “powers that be” for taking him away much too soon.</em>...more

Stop Logging My Thoughts and Harassing Me!

Everyone else writes it off as mental illness, auditory hallucinations. They think I'm obsessed with a man a used to work for and thought I loved, over a year ago. I think to myself, how egotistical. Normally when someone hurts you emotionally, you want as far away from that person as possible. Which is what I want. But these damn voices won't allow it. In the sick, twisted game they play, they make me look like the obsessed, crazy one. I just read where this is actually a common occurrence in the extra-marital affairs department. ...more

How I Coped with Her Suicide

All I could see was her plummeting.Every time I closed my eyes, for weeks, all I could see was my friend Jessica’s* suicide replaying over and over again in my head.They say she flew out to Vegas, ditched her phone, got high and then jumped off of the roof of a building....more

Dad: How do I relate you to my Voters’ ID card?

What do you relate your father to? Perhaps to the indomitable sense of protection which he always surrounds you with? Or, perhaps to a separate galaxy of love--- the father-daughter love? I relate my deceased father to my first voter id card. Yes I do! The day when I received the phone call from the hospital that he was no more, I was desperately trying to plan my rendezvous with him-- when I “meet” him first after this news. “What is the first thing I will tell him when I see him on his bed?” I thought....more

There are no wrong decisions.

When I was 24, I was broke and single. I was doing what I loved working 60-hour weeks. That summer, I was a bridesmaid in three weddings, and attended three more as a guest.I had dates and a few relationships scattered over the years, but not one time did I picture myself in a house with a white picket fence and a husband and some kids. Even in the flurry of bouquets and cakes and wedding melt-downs, I never felt the urge to pair up. I was happy on my own....more