To my sister-in-arms who can barely breathe after the betrayal—your lungs will recover, your heart will heal.

When I was a teenager, I nearly died in a tent fire at a family reunion. The flames from an overturned old-school propane lantern erupted near the door and melted the zipper shut, sealing me and three other family members inside. Luckily, family members outside our burning tent were able to rip it apart and … More To my sister-in-arms who can barely breathe after the betrayal—your lungs will recover, your heart will heal.

“WTF is wrong with you, lady?” and other gruesome moments in the ER—an infidelity story for all struggling marriages.

I microblog (write and share in smaller snippets) over on Facebook and the other day, the Wizard of Zuck showed me this photo—wanting me to know it was my most commented on photo of 2016. Mmkayyyyyyyy??????? I’ll roll witcha, FB. Not sure it’ll be what you had in mind, though. Because this was back when … More “WTF is wrong with you, lady?” and other gruesome moments in the ER—an infidelity story for all struggling marriages.

What good is knowing how to accomplish a task if you never start? It’s more important to just begin than it is to know how to finish at the start.

When we don’t think we can do it—it’s because we haven’t yet done it. After two years of drinking to numb and spending to feel, I’m tapping out of this ping-pong pairing of self-soothing behaviors that really only serve to make everything worse. For a full year. At least. And I don’t yet know how … More What good is knowing how to accomplish a task if you never start? It’s more important to just begin than it is to know how to finish at the start.

That first social event without the crutch of booze—uff-da!—and then some.

I’m very writer-y, but not always very talker-y. When I write, I tip myself upside down, shaking my thoughts loose from the nooks and crannies they’ve wedged into. I empty my brain’s pockets of all the angst I’ve stuffed deep inside. Then I begin to slowly work through the jumbled pile, organizing and editing as … More That first social event without the crutch of booze—uff-da!—and then some.

Ending your too-long struggle with secrecy and shame: tell your hard story to break the heavy bonds of self-imposed silence and finally begin to heal fully.

Once my secret was told, she surprised me by saying, “Me too.” And then we wept together. … More Ending your too-long struggle with secrecy and shame: tell your hard story to break the heavy bonds of self-imposed silence and finally begin to heal fully.