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Only on the Blue Line?

So things are terrible here in Boston, and, after yesterday’s MBTA shutdown, I wasn’t expecting a swift commute home. The Red Line took forever – it wasn’t even worth trying to swim through the sea of passengers at Downtown Crossing to make my connection to the Orange. Walking the something-odd blocks to State Street, I wondered…

150211
My lovely self, in the psych ward.

So there’s this thing I never talked about, before I stopped talking altogether. I didn’t talk because I couldn’t talk, because it was all too close and awful, and the other day I read this thing and now, in my head, I can’t stop talking. http://www.psmag.com/navigation/health-and-behavior/lovely-wife-psych-ward-95567/ I didn’t talk because I couldn’t, because, in June…

150116
A secret confession:

So the front door to our building hasn’t ever really shut properly. We’ve lived here for almost four years, and I can’t ever remember feeling the door slam CLOSED in that concrete way that doors are supposed to do. But that was fine, mostly, because I’m not good with locks. Then, a few weeks ago, some…

140520
Quiet, now.

This has been total hell. The whole spring-into-summer. One slow-burning, creeping infection that reinvented itself hourly. There was the hospitalization, of course, but that was just the beginning. That was only the spark. It wasn’t like last time, this past time – again, June. There was no brandishing grand hopes of success or faith in newly…

131009
Let’s talk about something different.

Let’s talk about my legs. And how they are covered with disgusting, itchy eczema. Let’s talk about the soles of my feet, and the psoriasis. How it wakes me up at night. How I’m too embarrassed to get pedicures, and how I pre-emptively apologize to anyone who might have the misfortune of removing my sandals.…

130624

Only on the Blue Line?

My lovely self, in the psych ward.

A secret confession:

Quiet, now.

Let’s talk about something different.