I Don’t Know Why I’m Not Stupid


I mean, I know I’m not stupid. But I don’t know why. Let me explain. At least I will try. And herein lies the fucking problem. I guess the easy answer is that I assume I am stupid because as a child, my narcissistic father told me I was stupid. A lot. Perhaps, it is that simple, but I don’t think so. I program computers and code in an old ass, not sexy language. Black screen...

Anxious Mothers of Adult Children


As an anxious mother of adult children, I don’t want to worry all the time. I hate worrying. I loathe working through anxiety every day. It’s exhausting. If I had known when my kids were actually kids, that I’d worry more about them as adults, probably wouldn’t have made a difference. I am who I am. Now that they are all adults, brand new worry categories...

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