•
If you had told me I would be weeping for anything other than sheer relief a month and a half after two hospice journeys and my seven-year career as a caregiver ended, I would have told you to shut your pretty mouth. But here I am, heartbroken and lonesome, crying myself to sleep. Oh,…
•
Or how many times can I use the word “fuck” in a single of writing? I tend to think about my nervous system only when I am feeling fucking nuts: the escalation of flight, the shutdown of freeze. I know this kind of dysregulation all too well. These are my steadfast, vigilant companions, and…
•
Three of Swords from Tarot of Mystical Moments by Catrin Welz-Stein, Reversed. Hospice for Haters Hospice for the Hopeless Hospice for Healers? The last syringe of morphine I administered to my mother on her deathbed was met with a clamped jaw, pursed, unyielding lips, and tears rolling down her cheeks. I will probably never…
•
The 10 of Swords from Tarot of the Mystical Moments by Catrin Welz-Stein The title of this essay comes from Annie Kotowicz’s short and sweet memoir, What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic. Consider this a set of CliffNotes to my experience of neurodivergence and related subjects. In each section, I will share…
•
The Moon from Mystical Moments Tarot by Catrin Welz-Stein For most of my life, I’ve felt like a failure. A rather fair-to-middling one, I grant you—I did have loads of privilege and a cussed determination to fall back on—but a failure nonetheless. Let’s get right to it. I started struggling—and failing—young. My entire academic…
•
I admire this human endlessly. I marvel at her regularly. She was a rare and brilliant gem. Today is Becky’s birthday, and boy, do I miss her. I miss her warmth, her charm, her talent, her goofiness… I even miss the feeling of being so much less—less charming, less impressive, less popular, all of…
•
Kiddo and I had an archery lesson. I managed a few bullseyes. The rest were hers. Today is my 51st birthday. If I ever have moments of doubt about how well loved I am, all I need to do is remember how, each year on June 10th, the tiny computer in my pocket practically…
•
Writings from April to June, 2025 [Nine of Swords from Tarot of Mystical Moments by Catrin Welz-Stein] My mom died six months ago, right before Christmas of 2024. And I have a confession. But first, allow me to state a few things before I share my admission. I want and need to, so you…
•
Last week, in a revelation that may surprise many—but perhaps make good sense to a few—I received an autism diagnosis. This would have come as quite a shock to me two years ago, but in the year and a half since my ADHD reveal and bombshell dys-agnoses, so much neurodivergent sand has shifted beneath…
•
Hoo Nelly. So, for reasons I’ll go into later, I have been trying to learn some stuff A few weeks ago, I took a deep dive into relearning some rules about sentence structure and punctuation. It was challenging. It took loads of repetition and practice to lock in some of the grammar rules that…
•
My mom died a month ago. I have everything and nothing to share about this. I am not even sure what kind of post I want or need this to be. About her? About me? I am left living with only one of those things, so here we go. As most of you know,…
•
Yesterday, my dad used a Le Creuset baking dish to try to fry an egg on the stove top. When he cracked the egg into the dish, it shattered into 30 pieces. Today, my mom put toothpaste on a bar of soap in order to brush her teeth. THIS later insanity, I caught in…
•
Things my dad can’t remember : What happened yesterday. The date, day of the week. How to manage his own finances. That my mom can no longer eat certain foods, and/or needs help in the bathroom and on the stairs. That I have begged him on more than on occasion not to watch violent…
•
Things my mom can’t remember : What happened 2 minutes ago. That there is a global pandemic. That she was in the hospital and could have died. That she does not know how to hygienically wipe her own ass. Sigh. My role as a caregiver has most certainly changed since we last spoke.
•
What the hell happened? How did I just drop off the map in March and, quite literally, forget that this blog was sitting here? I’ll tell you. COVID happened and they sent my kid home from school and she has not been back since. A spring, a summer, a fall and it’s now December.…