Ran. The. Whole. Way.

I do not consider myself a runner.

That is not one of my labels.

But.

Sometimes I run.

First, let’s clearly define ‘run’.

“move at a speed faster than a walk, never having both or all the feet on the ground at the same time”

Now, there are tons of people who WALK faster than I RUN.

Cause of my awesome heart.

But through MONTHS of work, my personal trainer, Ifat, got me running.

YEARS AGO.

I completely stopped when I was pregnant with my eldest. And then I ran a bit here and there, but mostly didn’t run again until Nacht van Groningen.

Continue reading “Ran. The. Whole. Way.”

Oh, And I’m A Mentor, Too

In rebranding the site, and especially over the last few days, I’ve been looking for the word for one who has PTSD.

And depression.

And occasional suicidal ideation.

If you search for ‘patient’ on thesaurus.com and click on ‘person being treated for a medical problem, you get all kinds of helpful suggestions that DO NOT resonate.

case
inmate
subject
sufferer
victim
convalescent
emergency
invalid
outpatient
shut-in
sick person

NOPE.

Continue reading “Oh, And I’m A Mentor, Too”

Maybe I’m Not Listening To My Introvert Self Enough

I’m tired.

Well and truly exhausted, actually.

I got enough sleep last night. And managed to work a bit this morning, although nothing to brag about. And then I gave an Elevator Pitch workshop via Toastmasters Groningen and Connect International.

That sounds WAY more impressive than it feels upon reflection.

Have I mentioned how tired I am?

I might not make any sense right now.

I do humbly reserve the right to delete the fuck out of this post in the morning after I’ve gotten six meager hours of sleep because #TWINS like to get up at six.

Cause #GotMilk

Continue reading “Maybe I’m Not Listening To My Introvert Self Enough”

This Space Intentionally Left Blank

TRIGGER WARNING

This article or section, or pages it links to, contains information about sexual assault and/or violence which may be triggering to survivors.

I’m staring at a blank page.

With a blank mind.

Knowing that it’s time to write. Time to express. Time to vent.

And nothing’s coming.

Just write.

SOMETHING.

The part that kicks me in the butt. Really punches me in the throat meat.

Is that post last Saturday.

The last time I had a blank mind. The last time I didn’t know what to write. When I just let the fingers do the walking.

All’s Quiet On The Home Front

Continue reading “This Space Intentionally Left Blank”