Author: Lindsay Dianne

A lot of people are telling me I’m doing well. I don’t really know what that means. A lot of people have said that they are impressed with how I’m handling everything. I don’t know what else I would be doing. I get things done between the meltdowns, I suppose. I try to save my…

I have a lot on my mind today. Monday’s are always weird because so much is closed over the weekend and I feel like I have been slacking (when reality I rarely slow down except to sleep). Sometimes it paralyses me and sometimes I somehow get my ass in gear and move. Today was the…

My mommy died a month ago today. It is hard to imagine as I navigate this kind of devastating experience that anyone would be able to hurt me with the same oomph they could before. It’s hard to imagine life goes on outside of this weird, peaceful longing. Yet, I know as well as any…

Well-behaved women seldom make history, so they say. I guess that’s why they hush us young. I guess that’s why they compliment us on the way we look rather than encouraging us to be curious about the world around us. There are hands on our throats and over our mouths from birth. The message to…

I saw a short clip yesterday of someone quoting Friedrich Nietzsche as having said a man who knows too much can’t fit in anywhere. He called it the curse of the enlightened or something like that. I’ve spoken about this myself. If you grabbed me by the face in 2022 and told me that getting…

It’s always been like this. Not exactly like this but there has always been an aspect of this. On one hand I hadn’t anticipated that it would continue beyond the end date. I kind of thought once it was over it would be relief and nothing else. Turns out it is not that way. Old…

Our family was little. Our family was comprised of just us. I feel the sting of tears and I can hear her voice state clearly,  “don’t be sad, ninzie”. Boy, momma. I sure am trying. You aren’t making it easy on me though. This one is a doozy. I feel so weird with no one…

I recently started writing in a journal I was given that offers questions and prompts of reflection. A page asked who I would be without my trauma and pain narrative and caused me to pause for a few minutes. Who WOULD I be without my fatherless behaviour? Sometimes people with abandonment wounds will flutter from…

All this talk of self love is brutal. I have come to understand the basics behind ideas like, “you have to love yourself before anyone else” in a much different way than I ever have before. On an intellectual level I know that I accept far worse treatment when I lack love for myself. I…