In a Slump


I’ve been in a slump. Weeks of utter exhaustion, mild depression and a complete lack of motivation. The first week, I chalked it up to still recovering from my surgery and allowed myself the rest. Though that Friday I managed to gather my strength and go out with some friends from school to see another classmate sing. It was a lovely, normal evening out and I am so glad I did it; but, the anxiety and socializing was draining. I was down a few days from that alone.

The next week, my daughter was depressed after a break up. We both spent a lot of time playing video games and being in bed until the end of the week. Realizing the unhealthy, depressive, codependent vibe we were creating, I vowed next week would have to be different. Sunday we drove to my niece’s to celebrate her birthday and spent the evening. It was a lovely time but Monday was right back to the shit.

My daughter and I got into an argument, probably needing space and independence from each other. We are so close that when we argue it is painful. That night I discovered my breast was disfigured from the surgery. The large indentation starting at my scar and going down the bottom of my breast was not any better and now there were two more lines across. I cried myself to sleep.

Tuesday morning, I had an appointment with the garage to inspect the car I am borrowing from a family member. I woke up to a group message regarding an upcoming brunch meeting with old friends. A change of plans. Could we meet near the hospital because my girlfriends mom was in the hospital. I was concerned for my friend and her mother whom I am close with too. I inquired to learn that it is Leukemia and she doesn’t have long. I offered anything I could do to please let me know, and I got ready for my appointment in tears. My appointment didn’t go that well either, I need all four brakes and rotors replaced and a side view mirror to even get a rejection sticker. Then I will have to identify the light stuck on to get inspected. Depleted. I cried on my exes shoulder whom I met because he is local to the garage. I have been completely independent from his help for a long time; but, I needed help. I asked if he could fix my brakes. Presumably, a “friends with benefits” comment surfaced in our conversation. I questioned silently, is that where we left it? I came home to a message from my daughter’s father asking if she was okay. Apparently, she had called him the evening before upset. I replied yes, just growing pains. He responded and then sent a dick pic. One with contraptions on it. I told him he was a perv, and he apologized and said it wasn’t meant for me. Between that and the comment from my ex, I now was depressed  AND angry with men.

I still had my breast to deal with, so I called the doctor and they made an appointment for me. Then my girlfriend with the sick mom called and asked me to call her as soon as I can. I was scared. I didn’t know if I had it in me to be as good of a friend as I tried to portray. I knew her situation would be triggering for me, and I feared breaking down. I poured a glass of wine and called. She wanted me to find someone who could perform a spiritual blessing at her service. I agreed. Then I poured another wine and called it a day.

Sunday, I gathered my strength again and drove to Burlington Mass to meet my girlfriends and her sick mom in the hospital. It tugged my heartstrings to see her sick. I am so glad and proud that I could be there to see her and be there for my friend. I have really grown! I came home and collapsed.

This week, I feel much of the same. Exhaustion, depression, repeat. My appointment with the doctor didn’t make me feel any better. She explained that she had to go into the capsule area to get the calcification out and it could have caused a reaction with the implant, now I have to see a plastic surgeon. Then another blow comes my way. The family of Carrie Moss contacts me to ask if I could tell them about a photographer I worked with. Carrie Moss is a girl that dated my brother in the 80s. In 1989, she went missing and later her bones were found but the mystery never solved and they are still trying to piece it together. The photographer came into question because my sister recently mentioned him to the family. This guy was wanted for child pornography, rape and possible murder, so he was a logical suspect. Shaken by just his name, I researched him only to find he finally became successful and then passed away in 2014. I hadn’t even heard his name in years, and here I was looking at his face and trying to process multiple emotions at once. He is something I will have to write a separate post on. I cried and cried. Here I was sitting with traumas from almost thirty years ago. It’s strange when the past catches up with you. It slaps you in the face and then curls up on your lap waiting for your attention. I will be working on that little gift today in therapy.

It’s really all I can do to just keep going sometimes. The last few weeks, it seems I’m up and then I’m knocked back down again. I am hoping with Spring coming the hints of hope will break this dark and gloomy slump cycle. It has been weeks now, and even though I am functioning, I feel heavy and depressed. I am overwhelmed with the sensation of my inner child just wanting to curl up and cry. I don’t want to be brave today. I don’t want to look into the darkness. I am afraid. I am tired. I just want to color, and play and be innocent.



Wounded Woman

5bc9e87e975941fc2b3f8f495690f93a-d3bxc9o                                            pic credit/Cold Wounds by badccintra


Wounded Woman

You can tell by the look in her eyes.

A beautiful sadness, silent cries.

The lines of her face

mark passages of time.

The scars and stories, she can’t erase.

Wounded Woman

She carries immense weight

on her shoulders.

A lifetime of trauma and pain;

but, the heaviness doesn’t stop her

from dancing in the rain.

dancing in the rain

Wounded Woman

twirled and thrusted

until she broke through

to the other side.

Alas, in Great Spirit she trusted,

and set herself free,

never again to hide.

Wounded Woman

She wove her wounds

like an intricate web of Grandmother Spider;

as she journeyed deep inside her.

She found the truth and beauty

of her own old soul.

Her spirit held all the selves, the keys.

Thus, Wounded Womanbecame whole. …<3



What Do We Do With Grief?



Twelve years today,

your spirit whirled away,

far out of reach. 

It took all of these years

to move from the constant grief,

to face the fears

of a life with out you.

To see through the darkness 

that you held the light to.

In my heart the nostalgia sustains.

It’s the memories i keep 

that give me courage to face each day.

It’s been a treacherous journey just to get this far,

I wear proudly on my soul, the scar.

Today I feel that grief again,

like a dam trying to hold the flood

I tense up.

Afraid to feel,

my logic scrambles, how do we cope?

Throw yourself in homework,

paint, create!

Channel the grief for better.

For better my spirit screamed, now that’s just mean!

What do we do with grief?

We feel it,,we let the sorrow in, we honor the loss, we sit with that pain

because reality is, my life will never be the same.

Her smile, laughter and wisdom

are not in the flesh,

yes, she’s with me, but it’s not the same.

It’s not fair, my sadness weeps,

my daughter doesn’t have a grandmother

and its fucking sad, my grief bellows.

I let the flood take over me,

run through me, and fill me.

In the arms of my daughter

I set the tears free.

I am so blessed to have her, 

we are like you and me!

It is true, I have lost part of myself forever,

and it is also truth we are all together.

It’s okay to feel sad

my sorrow whispers.

It won’t consume

like it once had.

A cardinal appears

and I know you are near.




This cardinal appeared a few hrs ago, right after I finished a good cry.

19429936_10212322039393646_8990911526266190717_n RIP my angel ❤

RIP Melody

(Pictures of Melody)

I just found out that a friend of mine passed away a year ago. I knew her through Facebook; but, that doesn’t diminish for a second, the deep connection we shared. We had endless Facebook chats and spoke on the phone a few times too. We shared our pain, our stories and quite a few laughs. We called each other Warrior Goddess sisters. We chatted about family, men, life, death, grief, physical pain, mental illness, creativity, fairies, magic, God and the Universe.

Melody was there for me, the way good friends are. At the time I was Agoraphobic and living in a one bedroom apartment with my 12 year old daughter. My disability payments barely covered the rent. Melody always cheered me up and encouraged me. She’d tell me to summon my warrior spirit, and I would do the same for her. We were survivors. We took our turns with insomnia and depression, and we would always try to be there for each other.

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(Melody’s husband photo shopped these for us. Her the warrior, and me the fairy)

Melody was a giving person too. She was an artist, and jewelry artist. One day I received a package from her with a beautiful bracelet in it for my daughter, and a fairy necklace for me, that she had created, accompanied by a couple of handmade cards. She even once mailed me $11. cash for a bottle of wine! We called it drinking grapes! 🙂

The last time I spoke to her was 2012. We both had things to go through and we fell out of touch. I tried sending her a few messages through the years; but no reply. Her Facebook account wasn’t very active.

Today, in my Facebook memories, she came up. I went on her page to see if there was any new activity. The last posts were all of us wishing her happy birthday Sept, 2016. I scrolled down a little and there was a post that said RIP, and a few after that saying she passed away.

My eyes filled with tears. Her obituary says she died May 2016. She was only 54. No details or explanation, and per her request no memorial service. I have spent today processing this news, my emotions, and memories.

Emotions and memories of a woman that I have never met in person; yet feel so karmically intertwined with. I wished I had reached out more or there was something I could have done more for such a generous, humorous, beautiful spirit.

I can’t help but to worry that she was sick or in pain. She often was. It makes me sad to think she may have never got the healthy life she wanted. It makes me want to hug myself tight and be grateful that I have found the strength to persevere, and that I am still on this amazing planet Earth. I set free the guilt because that is what she would want me to do. No more suffering now, my Warrior Goddess sister! I hope your wild heart is free and your soul traveling like a magical gypsy. I’ll see you at the Fairy dance. I hold up my glass of grapes to you my Dear Melody! RIP


Holy Birthday!

Growing up my birthday never seemed too special. It always rained. My mom never had money due to Easter or taxes, so I never had a big birthday party with friends, and I usually got I.O.U’s for gifts. As a result most birthdays were spent fighting depression.

This year, both American and Greek Easter fell on my birthday making it feel holy to me. There were no family plans for Greek Easter, which was a first. One family member sick, one not speaking to me and two were homeless. The rest were scattered. I had decided it didn’t matter. My daughter and I would celebrate and that would be enough. No matter the circumstances I intended to celebrate my birth and the resurrection of Jesus.

I had to put aside my hurt feelings, my sadness, my anger and all my worries. The day before my birthday, I wrote this:

Tomorrow is my birthday. I’ll be 49 years old. I wouldn’t have been able to convince my younger self that I’d make it this far. I couldn’t imagine even being 40.  I am entering Crone phase of life. A place of deep beauty and wisdom. I’ve begun my herbal studies. I’ve learned about and exercised boundaries. I’ve faced fears, and journeyed deep within. I’ve had a hysterectomy and learned that I still have sacred womb space. I have learned to love myself more despite menopausal weight gain, wrinkles, and family members alienating me because I won’t feed into negativity. I am learning everyday and these gifts will richen my life as time passes. I will become that beautiful bohemian gypsy in my mind’s eye. I will love unconditionally, and receive love. I will heal and be healed.  I will respect and deepen my relationship with Mother Earth, Great Spirit and the Universe. I will learn to listen to their whispers. Though my family is separated I feel content with my own celebration.

Though I realized that some traditions would be missed and recipes would have to be revised due to the fact that my daughter and I have gone vegan. I had to find a way to celebrate my culture, my spirituality and my birth.

I began the day with a purification bath with dead sea salts. I researched both Greek churches and Unitarian. I ended up at a Unity Church. I was going alone and fought much anxiety. They welcomed me lovingly and without judgement. When I got home I made myself a poster that read, “49&Feelin’Fine! My daughter and I had a blast baking vegan chocolate cake. For dinner, I kept it simple. Vegan Spanakopita and Greek Salad with Marinated Tofu. Surprisingly family members showed up to celebrate with me. We all sat outside and ate. The day was blessed with sunshine, laughter and love.

It’s not everyday that Jesus and I share a holiday. I reconnected with Spirit and myself.  It truly was a holy and magical birthday!18010615_10211671942901640_6132256117513424825_n


Pure Panic


This past Friday, I had a major panic attack. I hadn’t had one in a long while. They happen when my anxiety spins out of control. I have managed my anxiety pretty well; but, sometimes it sneaks up on me, and before I know it I am in pure panic mode.

When it rains it pours, and I was soaking wet. Last Thursday my niece had showed me a bedbug she found in the middle of the night. It’s been two months since that hell and now they were back. Friday my best friend and nieces dad was getting out of detox for alcohol and coming back to stay at my place. They both have been staying here because they are basically homeless. My best friend was drinking heavily again and we got into two nasty and emotional arguments. So, he went to detox. I really wasn’t feeling ready to have him back; but, he had no where else. Then out of nowhere my sister attacked me verbally and I felt deeply hurt. These things coupled with the fact that I had orientation on Sunday for my new herbal apprentice class stressed me out immensely.

My anxiety couldn’t be calmed even with xanax. My heart was pounding loud and fast. My hands shook and sweat poured out of me. I felt nauseous. I thought how am I going to do this course, with all of this going on? I can’t do it! I cried. I tried to do a meditation for anxiety and still couldn’t manage my panic. Fortunately, I had therapy that day. The first thing she had me do was ground. Put my feet on the floor feel the connection to Mother Earth. She said it’s okay to be scared, then the tears flowed. I was terrified. I was scared that this bedbug problem will never get under control. I was nervous about my best friend and I getting into an argument. I was stressed having less space in my apartment with everyone staying there. I felt depressed over my sister’s comments, and I was scared to take this class. My social anxiety was booming.  After grounding and crying it out, my therapist gave me some DBT interpersonal skills to work on to prepare for Sunday.

Pure panic had me in it’s grip for a bit; but, after facing the fear and letting emotions flow I felt better. I went to my Orientation and it went very well. Yesterday they treated again for bedbugs. My niece and best friend are looking for a place. I am not taking my sister’s comments personally, she has her own stress going on.  

All is good for the moment. Just breathe….



pic credit from