Evolve or remain.

About a month ago, I was sitting in my pajamas on the couch in my parents' new house. I was shaking. Bawling. We were on the phone with a mental health crisis line.  I can't describe what was going on in my head. When we got off the phone with the counselor, I asked my mom to grab one of her scrapbooks that she put together when I was little. Those books are one of the things I'm most grateful for. I remember trips to Scrapbook Garden with her so she could buy supplies, and I remember the flowerpot at the checkout counter full of lollipops. Back then, the lollipops were more important to me than the reason we were there. At 24, I understand why she worked so hard on those books. I understand why she was picky about the cardstock and about the packs of stickers she would buy. She was so good at the creative, artistic process. And I'm glad she did it.  That night, as I was working through some very difficult emotions, turning those pages helped me to feel like I was going...

It's Friday night. I'm sipping a glass of whiskey. Very slowly, while I write. We opened the windows in our living room, and we can hear the rain and see the streetlights. I've just written notes to the most important people to me and put stamps on them, so they have something to smile at when they go to collect their mail. My boyfriend held my hand in the waiting room of the Cancer Center while I waited for doctors to run tests. (They were negative, thank God). I just approved my timecard for another two weeks of work at a job I love. I was able to pay rent. Sugar cookies came out of the oven not too long ago. I ordered Boy Scout popcorn from a coworker. Matthew Perry's book came for me in the mail and I finished it in two days. I couldn't put it down.  I grabbed a coffee this morning and they made it extra strong - perfect for a rainy, dark, end-of-the-week pick-me-up and the barista put a stopper in it so I wouldn't spill any on the way to my office. My boyfr...