Rotting Roots
Tales from the dark side of my toxic origin story, and the havoc it inflicts on me daily.
Essays on narcissistic parenting, emotional abuse, an absent father, and the long, unfinished business of figuring out which parts of your damage are yours to carry and which ones you can put down.-
This is for my absent father
Recently I saw that my absent father was creeping me on LinkedIn. Dude, I can totally see who was looking at my profile, why do you insist on stalking me?
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Generational Differences
My mother and my son have a very love-hate relationship. My mother loves her grandson, my son cannot stand his grandmother. There is a lot of confusion on both sides as to why can’t the other understand the love/hate. I am stuck in the middle attempting to mediate between the two.
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You Talk Too Much…
Some people just don’t know when to shut the hell up. It amazes me how some individuals, namely my brother, can talk ad nauseam about ANYTHING–regardless of their listeners’ interest level–I’m guessing because he likes to hear the sound of his own voice.
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Stress Eating My Emotional Abuse
Joy of joys. I love winter. I do not love winter weight—the inevitable extra cushioning I seem to accumulate around my middle as my body prepares for the never to happen hibernation. However, this season I was doing better…until my mother came into town.
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Choke on Your Bitchy Pudding
My second post-divorce Christmas was simultaneously a success and my worst nightmare. My children were gloriously surprised and pleased with their presents. My brother was tickled to see everyone so happy with their gifts. Then there was my mother…the Grinch ain’t got nothing on her. She gives being a Christmas bitch a new name…
