Well-meaning people tried to encourage me by pointing out how far I had come. “You’re working!” they said, “You’re housed!” And the declaration I found most diminishing: “I’m so proud of you!”
I was 52 and I did not mark my progress by those measurements. Rather, I marked my progress by how far I had fallen. What did it mean that I was earning enough to rent a room in someone’s house when just a few years ago, I had owned a three-acre horse ranch in Oregon?
One of the most debilitating symptoms of post-traumatic stress is that people who suffer from it avoid the things that hurt them most. For me, that meant I avoided myself.
I was full of shame and self-hatred. Hatred that I—someone who had once had hundreds of thousands of dollars in the stock market—had collapsed. Hatred that I had become one of “them.” Lori Teresa Yearwood, Technology Review
For years, I’ve tried to work my way back into the middle class
Playwright #AugustWilson Takes Center Stage on U.S. Postal Service Commemorative Forever ...
Masks serve many purposes. How sad that they’ve become politicized.
Really enjoyed Prime Stage Theater’s video presentation of Mockingbird.
Enjoy the showmanship as a 94yo woman performs in a dance competition.
The Linda Lindas sing "Racist Sexist Boy" -- my new favorite punk song
Trump communications director Murtaugh rallies supporters by tweeting fake Washington Time...