Shuffle: The Soundtrack of Grief

“Think of Me”

I remember coming home from school when I was seven. My mother would be at work by then. She would leave the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack playing on repeat and it would always be playing when I came home and walked into the living room. It felt as if she was still there. After a while it occurred to me that she was leaving it on so that her presence was felt when she couldn’t be there. As I got older, I’d put it on myself; I’d listen to it all the time. When I hear it I can nearly smell her rose perfume, I can see the reddish brown waves, the green eyes, and the twinkle in her smile. Her voice so clear and beautiful that she sounded like a professional singer. Read More Shuffle: The Soundtrack of Grief

Accepting the Unacceptable

When I was first told that I might have bipolar disorder, the best way I can describe the resulting events is the Kübler-Ross model, more commonly referred to as the “Five Stages of Grief,” denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

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Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost: May Is the Cruelest Month

It turns out that “¦ danger and noise ““ the perception of danger ““ causes these animals’ heart rates to plummet ““ particularly the juveniles ““ and that really super-slow heart rate keeps them still, and that’s probably protective. It’s an anti-predation response. “¦ It turns out that animals and humans are equipped not with two, but three responses . . . fight, flee, faint.

– from What Animals Can Teach Us About Health and the Science of Healing by Dr. Barbara Natterson-Horowitz, on National Public Radio, April 22, 2013. Read More Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost: May Is the Cruelest Month

Knowledge: A Poem For Father’s Day

Father’s Day is this Sunday, and I am left with the memory of all the cards I sent late, or the phone calls made when I forgot a card entirely. I am left with the knowledge that I never knew which holiday would be the last.

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The Psychology of Letting Go

TW: death, suicide

Last July, my friend J was found in a park, dead by his own hand. And I lost it. I’m still not completely sure why: though he’d been a huge influence on me, he’d also been out of my life for several years.  Read More The Psychology of Letting Go