Stream of Consciousness
Confessions of a grieving disabled workaholic
My trip to San Francisco was supposed to be the greatest trip of my life. In some ways it was and in others it wasn’t. As I grow older, as my disability progresses and as my grief deepens, it sometimes feels like I’m constantly under attack. Like no place is safe for my body and no hands are safe for my heart. Grief is not something you overcome, it’s a tide you pray won’t crash onto you at the worst possible moment, and when it does, you learn to deal with it. Or at least I suppose, I’m not there yet.
By Allie Pauldabout a year ago in Poets
