Like Words Together Reflections from the deep end of Practice.


Late Night Rage

Another Collage Journal Carousel entry. This one's theme is, "Imperfect".

Today felt hard and then i found out a dear friend has a meningioma, a kind of brain tumor. As we were trying to talk folks showed up to fix my picky issue with the cement repair in the basement.

My professional org still hasn't commented on the response to a sexual misconduct incident. Three weeks after telling me it was coming very soon and convincing me to come to the online conference.

Getting CK's lumbar puncture scheduled has been ridiculously hard and involved gaslighting.

I'm not surprised there's late night rage today.

Trigger warnings for sexual abuse, child abuse and neglect.


Hello, rage about my Mother. I thought you were biweekly in response to therapy, bit as my therapist was sick this week it appears you're just biweekly because there's still so many prickly opportunities for me to recall the ways in which you harmed more.

Rage because it still continues to unfold. Rage that she refused to believe I was sexually assaulted as a child until she casually asked me about it while I watched her eat food at a Wendy's. Rage that she knew all along and instead told child me that my discomfort and UTI was due to poor hygiene.

Rage about the man, my Mother's shady boyfriend, who repeatedly assaulted me at age 6, into age 7. Rage at the hazy glimpses of passion and terror that imply so much more than the horror I already remember.

Rage at all the other sexual misconduct from men, from mere lewdness to a child, to outright assault, physically and emotionally.

Hair curling rage. If she weren't already dead I'd wish for her death.

It's an ugly feeling. I don't like my rage, I'm frightened by anger. However, I'm learning to love it, to acknowledge it as a true, reasonable response from my spirit to the terror I've survived.

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Collage Journal Carousel

It's been a while.

Stuff for even harder than our beloved elder dog dying.

Canada placing had reached the point where she completing a worksheet that includes the past ten years of employers. I got a first, ballpark quote from a moving company today. Even with taking barely any furniture is going to cost as much as our sewer repair.

CK needs a lumbar puncture to run a pile of tests on her cerebral spinal fluid. Trying to schedule it has been ridiculously frustrating.

Radiologists are the doctors who don't actually want to talk to you.

All that aside, I've been facilitating a cool art journal swap! Each person handmade a journal that will fit into a catalog envelope. Inside, on the "title page" you put the theme for your journal. Then you sent it off to another participant. When a journal arrives you check the theme, maybe get a few more details from the sign up form, create a full page entry, then send it off to the next person.

I'm going to post one a day, until I catch up.

The first one, Peace & Love journal appears last month.

The second one, picture with this post, is for a "Whimsy Journal"