tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24806308.post2519919997012922396..comments2023-10-08T07:04:49.054-07:00Comments on The Writing Life: The Problem With Compartmentalizing, Part Twokariohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10150537989886423212noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24806308.post-3858028433283980662018-01-11T21:45:27.632-08:002018-01-11T21:45:27.632-08:00You Are The Best.
Love.You Are The Best.<br /><br />Love.Elizabethhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03313726816776097840noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24806308.post-35252267362479274542018-01-10T20:45:34.060-08:002018-01-10T20:45:34.060-08:00Blogging and Sharing of the load of full time Care...Blogging and Sharing of the load of full time Caregiving sometimes on my little slice of Blog Heaven has helped me decompartmentalize a lot of the heavy stuff Life brings and which sometimes you are carrying alone otherwise. The Community of Support, even if it's an Online Community, it better than isolation if you cannot get out and around people in the Real World all that much and having no Community at all.Bohemianhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03743017084098726581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24806308.post-29855668038451111912017-11-14T14:10:12.321-08:002017-11-14T14:10:12.321-08:00Dear Kario, what sound and wise advice you have gi...Dear Kario, what sound and wise advice you have given not only Birdie but all of us who read your postings. I remember how I shoved deep down the three months of daily molestation by a neighbor. That happened when I was 10. It was 18 years later--when I was 28 and in the convent that a nun--who was tall and large-boned--hugged me unexpectently. Suddenly what had happened when I was in the fifth grade came flooding back. I had to flee her presence and go outside to cry. And even then I didn't talk to anyone about it. It was three years later before I did that. Oh, the relief to find that I wasn't unworthy. That it wasn't my fault the molestation had happened. That I was okay. Peace. Deehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00612299013780771262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24806308.post-84579664571685161412017-11-14T02:20:27.737-08:002017-11-14T02:20:27.737-08:00This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.FanStoryhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13674811315150574769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24806308.post-24801370266605938062017-11-11T15:20:41.555-08:002017-11-11T15:20:41.555-08:00Love.Love.Carrie Wilson Linkhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01586157395539583862noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24806308.post-82913176449936615102017-11-07T10:20:49.797-08:002017-11-07T10:20:49.797-08:00I love this post and I am so glad you wrote it.
...I love this post and I am so glad you wrote it. <br /><br />The biggest problem with me are feelings of unworthiness. That word in the media has been thrown aground and joked about (We’re not worthy!) and so I hate the word but don’t know any other word to describe the feeling. I see so many others that are in far worse spaces than I am. The abuse messed with me in a way that leaves me feeling like I deserve nothing. No happiness. No friends. No help. I go to a weight loss support group and have lost over 30 pounds in 14 months and less than 10 pounds to my goal weight. A “normal” person would be proud but I still feel shame. <br /><br />Anyway, I won’t go on. Even writing this is taxing and makes me look and feel pathetic. It is such a vicious cycle. I guess that’s why it’s easier to ignore. <br /><br />Anyway, I am so grateful you wrote this post. I am going to print it out so I can read it later. Birdiehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03479872783727855901noreply@blogger.com