• Writing Trauma & Telling Stories

    It was July 4th weekend, and it was my turn. I drew a card: Tell about a secret desire that you have. I had talked my friend into playing a game–The Ungame–which involves drawing cards from a pile and answering deeply personal questions. You can see why I am no good at cocktail parties. I read my card

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  • Death at Powell Street Station

    Today at 7:55am a man jumped in front of a train at Powell Street BART Station and died. I didn’t know this when I left for work, and grabbed my bagel, and walked down Mission St. I had no clue when the attendant saw me and said, “ You going downtown? There are delays today,”

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  • The Valiant Fight

    “If I believe one thing to be true about heaven, it’s that the collection of souls that gave up the fight after valiantly fighting depression – they are treasured for the battle, held in precious regard because it’s unlike anything else.” (Shaylynn) Pain, depression, loneliness, despair: they are often in the distance until they aren’t, until

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  • So, you and depression?

    I was suicidal. I was depressed. I refused to tell anyone. Depression was in the distance until it wasn’t, until it took up space right next me, dug in, and held on. It wouldn’t leave. Pain outweighed reason. I found myself in front of a computer, searching, looking, hoping to end it, all of it. This

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  • Why did your dad commit suicide?

    Why did my dad commit suicide? There will never be an answer that fits perfectly. For some reason, I never was quite concerned with the answer. Maybe it was because I was 9. Maybe because the answer never changed the outcome. Either way, the answer is unknown, there are placeholders, fillers, guesses, theories. Suicide does

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  • Coming up for Air

    You know that feeling when you dive down to the ocean floor or the bottom of the pool and you’re holding your breath, looking up, hoping you gave yourself enough time to make it back up to the top? You start swimming, quickly, towards the surface, thinking you might have misjudged the distance, worried that

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  • 6 Things I’ve Learned

    When I sat down to write down to write a post about being done with therapy, I had a very different idea in mind. The title would read something silly like “5 Ways to Know Your Therapy Sessions Should End,” but that didn’t seem honest, it didn’t resonate. And I didn’t seem qualified to be

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  • Are you ever done?

    Do you ever know when you are done or simply that you have had enough, that you are full—or is it empty? The story, the pain, rejection, sadness are open. They’ve been exposed, picked up, turned around and rearranged. Do you know you are done? Do they? The therapists, I mean, do they know? When have

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  • Dear Daddy

    I watched Father’s Day come and go, wondering what might make the day a bit more meaningful for me. It wasn’t painful or hard, it was just another day. I thought it should be more important, more meaningful, full of oomph and pizzaz, but sometimes I just have to let days be what they will–no

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  • Termination Session

    When I first met my therapist Mary, I was cautiously optimistic and as honest as I could be with myself. Paying someone to help me sort through my shit was quite motivating; it helped move things along and prevent last minute cancellations. I remember looking at her one afternoon and saying, “When I first got

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