CONFESSIONS OF A RECOVERING RACIST

When I was a little red-headed girl in the 1950’s and 60’s, I lived in a neighborhood in Richmond, Virginia, partially populated by black people during the day. At night they went home, most of

Notes Toward Becoming a Happy Fool

Two things are on my mind as I write this: another mass shooting in America and my oldest brother’s mental demise. There’s a connection. When I was recently visiting my brother, who is a 78

The Karma of an Asshole: Bad Attitude toward Mental Illness

Mental illness is often treated like some kind of character defect or moral failure. How do I know this? Because I’ve been the asshole doing that. I’ve stood up in front of a classroom of

RAGE

I was raised by a genteel woman who rarely, if ever, expressed her anger. She had integrity and grace, but she was exactly what Virginia Woolf called “the angel in the house,” the woman in

I’M NOT ANYTHING

Let’s see – I was a radical hippie chick. That’s definitely over. I was a mother; well, I will always be that in spirit but not in body. My son is no longer in the

GETTING UNSTUCK

  I am so grateful to be prescription drug free – off of central nervous system chemical tampering, recommended by doctors, which put me at risk for mental breakdown, suicide and seizures – that I