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One Foot in Front of the Other
One foot in front of the other, I tell myself, as I trudge to where I need to be. Trudge trudge, trudge trudge. Things are going slower than normal on this very routine walk, in a straight line directly from the north to south of the city. I brought headphones to listen to a podcast, but I decide not to listen to anything. Listening to two people chatting obliviously would be far more painful than the silence of this moment. My mind is a blank. A freshly-painted white wall. No thoughts contained within. I feel odd for not having any. Shouldn’t I have some? I look at the recently fallen…
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my anxiety: how it’s going
i never knew what a panic attack was until the year before moving to europe, 2011. earlier that year, i had experienced the worst airline turbulence of my life…. alone… in the middle seat… on my way home from my grandma’s funeral in minnesota. it was so bad, i can barely talk about it. this is about as much detail as i can give. after this happened, i started driving like an eighty-year old woman and began feeling very uncomfortable riding in the car with a fast driver or going too fast on any transport in any circumstances. my fear of heights shot up from “pretty bad” to “nearly crippling”.…
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the world is bigger than you
with all of the american election news flopping around (flop seems like an accurate verb), tensions are beginning to run higher than usual with most everyone, i’ve noticed. it’s tough when the main ways that you communicate with your friends back home are through social media outlets, like facebook, which means that we don’t usually see all of the great things about those friends that remind you why you two are friends. often, we end up only seeing the ugly. sometimes, really ugly. this past week, a friend of ours asked my husband the following question on facebook… “if you live in greener grasses of europe, why does it matter who…
