Sometimes I get in a funk when I’m home alone at night. Ok, fine, I’ll say the “L” word no thirty-three year-old woman is supposed to say: lonely. I get lonely. A lot. And loneliness bites, anyone who has experienced it in even small amounts knows. So there is a routine I do when I’m …
This is my desk. When I sit here I feel free. I had moved it to use as part of a friendsgiving this year, and only moved it back this weekend. Although I knew in the fall I wasn’t myself, the bear of depression seemed so sudden in December. The winter turned out to be …