He who shall not be named also known as: the son who died
I won’t mention him by name. I don’t want to sully his memory by talking more about the way in which he passed. There was already enough internet drama at the time, and my grief was public enough. But I feel it is important to mention this because I will refer to him as the son who died when I write about him. He was not my biological son, but he was my son nonetheless.
Grab Your Emotional Baggage – It’s Time for a Guilt Trip!
My son asked why I don't cook at home anymore. I had three hypotheses: post-divorce rebellion, depression, or all of the above. Pack your emotional baggage it's time for a guilt trip. Let's go!
Happy Divorce!
One year divorced and I'm not nearly as traumatized as I expected. Turns out getting busy living is a better strategy than crying into your pillow. Happy divorce to me.
A Series of Unfortunate Events
Having served in the Navy sometimes feels like it happened to somebody else. Except for when life reminds me through a series of unfortunate events.
Bracing For Impact
I must be suffering from the effects of residual stress because my head has been pounding all day. I can only assume that it is my body reacting to what I have yet to wrap my mind around completely: that in a matter of hours, my calm will be disrupted by the arrival of mr horrible. I have been too busy to really stop and take stock.
