22 January 2016

I’m the McGregor

A man walks into a bar. He takes a seat and starts a conversation with an old guy next to him. The old guy has obviously had a few. He says to the man, “You see that dock out there? Built it myself, hand crafted each piece, and it’s the best dock in town. But do they call me ‘McGregor, the dock builder?’ No! And you see that bridge over there? I built that, took me two months, through rain, sleet and scorching weather. But do they call me ‘McGregor, the bridge builder?’ No! And you see that pier over there? I built that, best pier in the county. But do they call me ‘McGregor, the pier builder?’ No!”

The old guy looks around, leans closer to the man, and he says, ” But you fuck one goat…”

Okay, here’s the deal about living with mental illness. Even when you’re not having an episode and your medication is regulated and you’re managing your shit and everything’s going along hunky dory, it’s hard. ‘Cause I gotta question my behavior. Is this okay? When I get sad, is it okay to be this sad? Is this the beginning of an episode? Have I been sad for a few days? Do I feel sick right now or am I closing down? Do I simply want to be alone for a few days while I work or am I circling my wagons? Questions, questions.

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16 January 2016

Loving Myself

Writer: Beth Hallman | See this picture here? I’m at Panama City Beach with a soul sister friend of mine. We’re on vacation with our youngest daughters. It’s a last hoorah before winter. We take this girls’ trip, a chance to be together in the sand and water, a soul satisfyin’ love fest for all of us.

I’ve just come off a gruelin’ month long project. I launch my new website and store. I need this trip more than anything. We all play hard. We love every minute of it. Well, I think they love every minute of it. I have my fair share of Klonopin moments. I’m out there bein’ brash and bold, a fatty in her bathin’ suit, pretendin’ like I don’t care what anybody thinks of me. Lookin’ people in the eye, stickin’ out my tongue when someone dares to stare at me with a look of disgust on their face. For Christ’s sake, I’m at the beach with my kid…


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5 January 2016

Together Again

My sister sends me a message before Thanksgiving. My birth sister. My sister who grows up in the trenches with me, who survives a McAfee childhood. The sister with whom I share more than blood and history. She’s reached out before, but we have this terrible, awful thing between us. Forgiveness isn’t an option. Letting go is. I let go of a most beloved sister a long time ago. Instead of a sister, I live with regret.

And yet, here she is.

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