Mom, I'm not okay.

Updated: Apr 26, 2020

I laid on the basement floor.

Tears and snot were running down my face.

My mom tried to hug me.

I pulled away.

I couldn't hug her because I'd been sick for two weeks.

She reached in and hugged me anyways.

"I'm not okay. I am not handling this well."

I was having an PTSD episode.

I was told I wasn't allowed to hangout with friends until further notice because of the pandemic.

My car was at the mechanic so I had no way to leave the house.

I was sick so I had to keep my distance from my family and stay in my room.

I didn't have an office space and I left my work equipment in Chicago.

I was working from a table in a spare bedroom.

This is almost the exact environment I was in while in a cult for ten months.

I had nothing to lean on for comfort.

Nowhere to walk outside.

I couldn't hug anyone or hold anyone because I was contagious.

I couldn't eat sweets or drink alcohol...probably for the best.

I was restless, anxious.

I lacked a feeling of freedom.

I felt trapped.

I showered until I washed the tears away.

And then it passed.

I was okay again.

Recent Posts

See All

Another Night

With windows open, letting in the warm Spring air. A mug of hot water, honey, and whiskey. Wrapped in a blanket as I pour out my heart on paper. Listening to the live music from the wine bar across th


Sometimes the pain from my past drowns me. I feel like I'm held underwater, unable to get air. I'm reminded of the choices I made. My pride and arrogance. Dismissing my family, thinking I didn't need

From nothing

I went from nothing two years ago to this. "Hallie, I can't believe how far you've come," my uncle said as he looked around my apartment. I didn't have any money. I was actually in debt. I didn't have