Like so many who have fallen into abuse, I rationalized that I could help him to change. He needed me. Having failed to save my husband, I wanted to save someone, even someone who wasn’t very nice to me.
When I was widowed, I couldn’t stop thinking I was doing it wrong. But all we really have to do is to stop judging our own grieving.
Can we finally just say we feel lonely and isolated? These times feel like first being widowed, and yet, there is solace in small things.
My quarantine resolution: to reconcile with gratitude. Otherwise, it’s too hard to live with someone this bitter.
In this time of quarantine when we can’t escape ourselves, let’s stop bumming ourselves out with thoughts of self-doubt.
Loneliness equals shame. The hardest thing I went through after George died was being lonely. With few friends,
I think I’m devolving into a blancmange. (I loved the whole Devo, de-evolution thing). About a year after
Dear Blog Friends, I have a new Huffington Post article. I’m not on my main computer, it took
Hello Lovelies, I’m in Good Housekeeping Again. And I am so grateful. Here’s the start: ****** I was
Ever since my husband George died, I’ve felt like a fucked up alien. In the two
