I was sent a great article yesterday entitled, “Prepare for the Ultimate Gaslighting: You are not crazy, my friends,” written by Julio Vincent Gambuto. He talks about the upcoming marketing extravaganza we survivors will be barraged with post COVID-19. How companies will try to convince us that we’ll need a Coke or a Big Mac, …

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I planned on blogging again to talk about the cool stuff I’m doing for my MS. Then President Fucking-Feasance took over my brain. So today I’m going to get it all out of my system and move on. Fucking-Feasance? Although I’m not a lawyer, Trump has clearly carried out all three types of failures like …

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My sister-in-law, Annette, was born and raised in Wild & Wonderful West Virginia! Her and my brother had their reception in Wheeling. My husband, Gary, got his BS from West Virginia University located in Morgantown. That’s also where I earned my MS degree. Heck, my parents live only 10 miles from the PA – WV …

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Time To Write Again. I Think.

March 3, 2020

Recently I had the pleasure of enjoying dinner with dear friends. We started talking about my writing and I was reminded that I keep ignoring said friends when they encourage me to write again.

I used to post semi-regularly here. I wrote another blog called Enter The Circle from 2006 – 2011), wrote a monthly newsletter years ago that I emailed to subscribers and even self-published a book with friends almost a decade ago. But once social media exploded, 140 characters replaced posts and exchanging information was replaced with Facebook feuds and Twitter wars I decided, “To hell with this, I don’t care enough to participate.”

Another problem I have (or perhaps a skill I possess, who knows) is that I can only write about whatever’s on my mind at the time. Period. Zip.

This is why I don’t write fiction.

This is why if I’m annoyed with Donald Trump, I can’t write about healthy recipe alternatives for chocolate cake or why I like using my Theragun.

This is why if I’m frantically searching for ways to improve my foot drop and walk better, I can’t write about why I’m constantly annoyed by Donald Trump.

I can only write about what I’m currently thinking or feeling. Writing for me is a way of purify my brain by graphically purging the thoughts I’ve been over-ingesting. Basically I’m a bulimic when it comes to writing. A binge-purge wordsmith, if you will. 

So after years of binging countless ideas, inklings and impressions, I’m feeling the need to get back in front of the keyboard to get these round the clock ruminations out of my system. Although I’m nervous about opening myself up to criticism and commentary, I’m relieved that written comments allow me the opportunity to think before I reply. Sadly, not everyone online takes advantage of this, which makes me even more nervous.

Because I have decent information to share about living with a chronic condition (I have MS), the art of communication (I’m a speech therapist), body awareness (I’m a yoga teacher), and life in general (I’m a mother, friend, daughter, wife, sister, human being, etc), I’m going to listen to my friends, find my courage, and start writing again.

Therefore, if I offend, misinform or are simply unaware, please let me know so I can learn and grow. Feel free to comment, share a link or recommend a social media account to follow. I have no issue having a difficult yet enlightened conversation with anyone.

But a confrontation disguised as an exchange? No way.

Not interested.

Which means if you simply don’t like my thoughts and want to fight with me about them, don’t waste your time because when it comes to strangers and anonymous postings, I’m a lot like Tim…

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(This is the closest I got to crediting the illustrator above. I hope it’s correct. However the featured image and other photos by Hannah Grace at the top of my post can be found here.)

I think all the ladies in this photo look fabulous. But in my mind the selfie ladies on the right are talking about angles, lighting, and product placement. Whereas the woman on the left.  For her I imagine a thought bubble floating above her head that states, “Fuck yeah I look good!” She doesn’t need …

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Six weeks ago my mom read a post I wrote and wondered (publicly in my comments section I might add) why I don’t share with her the shittier parts of having MS? It was a fair question that got me wondering. Maybe I’m too secretive? Maybe I’m too sensitive? Maybe I’m just an asshole? So I decided to take …

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