“Opinion is really the lowest form of human knowledge. It requires no Accountability, no Understanding. The Highest Form of Knowledge is Empathy, for it requires us to suspend our egos and step into the life of Another.”
-Bill Bullard
About Me, my Mission, and My Advocacy
“When people are in the mood for being creative, they will come up with stories that will impress the imagination of the world. I like to think of my emotions and try to make something poignant out of them. I have to admit, I’m not very creative, but I do have a wild imagination and I try to tell stories with meaning, ones that will make the reader think about life. So that when they are done reading my words, they can’t get them out of their head. So many of my exact same emotions that I would write on paper if I had only the talent to do it. The only problem is, I am not patient enough to write a book. Not unless I am in a really determined mood. The mood that almost all writers need to be in in order to write to the best of their ability. I like writing creatively. It takes my mind off of my life. Sometimes I get so sick of it! So sick that I would rather be anyone else in the world but me. I am getting so sick of all my thoughts, how everything I feel comes out the same, and how my life is so painfully ordinary. Right now I am looking down at my hands. To me, they appear sort of graceful. To others, I am not so sure. I think my hands are pretty, and I wonder what responsibilities they will hold. Will these hands reach out to others in need? Will they be known, loved, valued, or accepted? Because in the quiet moments, the ones in the back of my mind, hidden from view, lies a vast, dominant force that remains highly unidentifiable. Something abstract and foriegn. A morbid curiosity, and a dark fascination. A desire to stray into forbidden paths. I give in. I succumb. I stray Into these moments, and I imagine my hands, graceful as they may appear, cold and still. Lifeless. And I am gone.”
–Jenny , 1999- 15 years old
I invite you to take a minute and ask yourself one question. Have you ever read a secret diary? I believe there are many of us who can relate to this curious fascination. There is nothing more deliciously satisfying than gaining provocative and forbidden insight into the secret, compelling, and most personal and intimate life of another. What are their insecurities? What motivates their actions? What makes them, them? In a very real sense, that is exactly what I am offering you here. My life. My struggles. My addictions and the orgions of them, as well as my ongoing recovery. I saw ongoing quite deliberately because this is my first piece of insight for you. Addiction is a lifelong disorder. For most of us, our internal narrative never truly ends. Here, my life is literally an open book, a valuable resource to help you gain both insight, empathy and understanding. As a Nurse’s Aid on the frontlines of a Global Epidemic, I have seen many people drown in the degregation of their own physiology, as fluid accumulates in the delicate tender aveoli of our lungs, leaving us to feel as if we are suffocating. As if we are drowning. Thousands have indeed drowned in their own physiology due to Covid-19. But there are thousands more who will drown as a repurcussion of it. They will not drown in a physiological sense. They will drown in Addiction. They will drown in despair. They will drown in isolation and lonliness. It is crippling. The statistical trajectory of an alarming mental health crisis is predicted to explode expodentially, and I have seen it, felt it, but most importantly, I have lived it. Welcome to my Secret World. Welcome to Drowning to Madagascar.
Like many of you, I wrote in a diary in my youth. I wrote frequently and with a passionate young innocence. I had a tumultous relationship with an older sister who I genuienly felt did not understand me in my secret world of self isolation. I analyzed my parents relationship with a thoughtful and curious eye. When I was young, I also destroyed many of my written thoughts. At the time, I felt as if the predomiant theme of my youth was one of sadness and isolation. So I destroyed them. Ripped them down to the spine in a fit of despair. I had other sisters who told me not to do it. That I would regret my actions at a later time, and indeed I did. If I were to be able to meet that little girl now, I would have rediscovered that there were moments of joy and contentment, delicatley intergrated with the singular vision of childhood. As a child, I always watched and analyzed people. I wanted to know what made them them. What emotions dictated their behaviors, their innermost thoughts. As I am sure many of you have at one point in time or another, I snooped around in my siblings journals from time to time, desperate for insight and to gain a sense of understanding. They periodically did the same with my journals.
The distinctive theme surrounding my blog and book series is to emphasize the unifying power of one singular voice. I find it powerfully poetic that during the course of my own unique journey, I had not the strength, the courage, nor the conviction to comprehend the influencial potential of my own voice until at a certain point in my journey, it was abruptly taken away from me. The fight to make my voice heard was hardfought and not without great suffering, both physically, emotionally, and psychologically. I had to fight in order to make myself heard. I had to call out injustice, inequality, and discrimination where I saw it, and when I encountered it personally. I had to question other people’s perceptions of me instead of passivley accepting my value from their own biased perspectives. In finding my voice, I have found an incredible amount of freedom through complete transparancy. I have finally learned how to abandon my shame, which is the defining characteristic of anyone who has had to suffer the destructive nature of addiction and Substance Abuse Disorder. Even if you are not entirely free from your self destructive behavior, or if you are trying in earnest to change your behavior, you can learn how to live with an illness, (and yes, Addiction is an illness. A powerful and unforgiving physiological brain disorder) without becoming a slave to crippling feelings of shame and unworthiness. You do not have to accept nor embrace the mentality that you are only worthy after you have been free of your personal demons, the forces that hold you back and prevent you from loving yourself first. Even if that is the way that society has been conditioned to treat us. Now that I have my voice, I plan to use it freely and without restraint. My personal mission was born out of a desire to ensure that nobody else would have to go through the deep pain that I had been made to suffer. An indescribable pain born out of ignorance. A pain worse than the accumulation of all my physiological addictions combined.
“I would love to embrace freely the notion that the ultimate illusion of control is about gaining the willpower to overcome an illness, and not to embrace it.”
–Jenny Miner McCombs- The Addict Empath
“I want to do something. I want to be able to help not only myself, but other people who are bound to feel and think as I do. But can an hour of compassion really make a difference in the trajectory of my life? Or will it soon fade into a fleeting memory?”
-Jenny Miner McCombs-The Addict Empath
Everyone has a Voice
I origionally wanted to reamain anonymous. I thought that by refering to a pseduonym, origionally titled Drowning in Madagascar, reflelcting the title of my debut Transformational Memoir, That I could speak my truth while maintaining the mystique of anonymity. Yet by hiding my name from others, I began to realize that my actions would speak louder than words. I did not want to facilitate the conclusion that I was ashamed of my story. My name is Jenny McCombs, The Addict Empath. Drowning in Madagasar is the title of my debut transformational memoir. The beginning of a series of six, each one addressing a prominent theme relative to my recovery, and how I finally came to love and value myself for everything that I am, with all of my scars, both physically and mentally. I learned how to see the unique beauty in all of my imperfections. And now, I have made it my mission to help the millions of people like me who continue to suffer in silence. If you do not yet have your voice, I will lend you mine. There is healing to be found in shared human experiences.
As a society, must learn to cultivate empathy if we truly desire to help our loved ones find healing. The seeds of addiction and mental illness are growing expodentially, and the psychological repurcussions of COVID-19 will have far more devastating effects, which will last longer than this virus, killing many more additional lives needlessly. The predominant emotion of anyone who suffers from Substance Abuse Disorder is Shame. Shame and Fear. Adding additonal shame on a loved one who already punishes themselves enough, will never promote change. Only heartache. When it comes to the wide variety of mental illnesses that we suffer, addiction included, we cannot merely love someone to a place of wholeness. If we could, if love were enough, we would have many more beautiful people here with us today. The sobering reality is that we no longer have the luxury of passivley standing aside and watching so many beautiful lives and so many beautiful stories fade away into memory and transition into nothing more than a sobering statistic. Mentioned in passing, and forgotten all to soon.
“I feel compelled to write down all of my secrets in a book set entirely apart from the blue bindings of my innocence. Where butterflies danced freely among the chapters of my life and a sunshine yellow ribbon divided them. The representation of A life full of promise. A life that should have been mine.”
-Jenny Miner McCombs-The Addict Empath
It is natural to be curious about the ways of human behavior. People need people. People need to be understood. That is a predominant theme of humanity that remains constant. People, at their core, need people the most when they are suffering from any sort of illness, be it physically or mentally. Despite modern attempts that have been made in society to promote awareness towards mental health struggles and compassion, we continue to live in a world where mental illness is still very much scrutinized and looked down upon. Even more regretable, is the is the widely accepted idea that isolation and exclusion, as a form of reprimand or punishment, is an effective and productive way to treat someone who struggles with a mental illness that leads to poor judgment and irrational decision making.
“ I have an addiction. I have finally called it an addiction. I know it is because I have told myself over and over again that I was going to put an end to this nightmare, yet it happens again. Over and over and over. The very act of putting my pen to paper solidifies my weakness. My fragility. The very act of admitting I have no control condemns me to feel as if I am choosing to not have control. Being forced to admit that I have no control in and of itself is tiring. Being forced to accept that the world feels I do is torturous.”
-Jenny Miner McCombs-The Addict Empath
Empathy. To Feel as one feels. To step into the life of another. To understand the motivations behind the behaviors that mystify you. Puzzle you. Worry you. Keep you up at night. What I hope to accomplish with these works is to provide you with a multifunctional platform for those who wish to ‘Seek to Understand. Then be Understood.’ The subject matter that you will explore in this blog are personal firsthand accounts drawn from my own personal life experiences, written predominantly by my own hand through my journals that span through the age fifteen, to the current day, at age thirty seven, providing context, depth, and relevancy from first hand accounts. What it truly means to identify as someone who suffers from Addiction. The battles we fight, the thoughts that we cannot escape, and the stigma and discrimination that we feel.
“We are not a stain on Society. The reality is, we are society.”
-Jenny Miner McCombs- The Addict Empath
Drowning in Madagascar
Book One
“I am ready to move on from my self destructive behaviours. I want to regain some sense of peace, hope, and contentment in my life. I still know that I am looking in all the wrong places. All I know is that the right place is just so hard to get to. It is all about forgiving and letting go. I am tired of defining myself by my pain. How badly do I want to be free of you. But the more I think I can, the tighter your noose wraps even tighter around my neck, always installing impulsivity, desperation, fear, and selfishness. You have made me a chronic liar and a desperate human being. You are a mean disease, and I hate you. Because people do not understand your complex and twisted nature, and they don’t think that I am trying the best I can, and the hardest I can, to get rid of you once and for all. They assume that if only I was more vigilant, that it would be easy for me to just let you go. But then what will be left of me? I need help finding myself again.“
-Jenny Miner McCombs- The Addict Empath
Theme Song for Drowning in Madagascar – I’m Ready Now
This debut non-fiction transformational memior will chronicle my life from the earliest stages of my memory. I will discuss in great detail the origins and gradual formation of my addictions. How they formed and took root, how they grew, and how they took over my life. I will guide the readers through the addictive thought processes and internal narrative that we can never escape, themes of self loathing and self punishment synonymous with eating disorders and substance abuse disorder. As loved ones of those who suffer, I will shed light on the things that you say, the actions that you take with well meaning intent that inadvertenly drive your loved ones away, pushing them further into their own self-destructive behaviors. What draws us near, and what pushes us away, and it is a very fine line to walk. My story covers both physiological and psychological aspects of trauma, and addresses different forms of mental illness, shedding additional light into the prevelancy of mental illness and personality disorders. Working as a nurse’s aid on the brink of nursing school and the onset of a global pandemic, I will reveal how we, as a collective and biased society, continue to view people who suffer from addiction as the sole destructive force within both family, occupational, and societal units. Our reality is that mental illness is unbiased and more intricately woven within the fabric of our families and society than many people know about or care to accept, let alone discuss openly. I will discuss discrimination and stigma from a firsthand account, shedding additonal sobering insight on how the ignorance of others is not without consequence or significance. I will also reveal the pinnacle moment of my story that ultimately changed the trajectory of my life. The singular experience that transformed me from nurses’ aid, into a fierce and passionate advocate. The moment that beckoned my story to be told.
Amidst Love’s Deepest Shadow
Book Two
Theme Song for Amidst Love’s Deepest Shadow
“Last night I had a dream. Something curious, something profound. I don’t know what to make of it. I’ve never had an experience like this before. I heard soft voices, almost as a whisper, conversing amongst one another while I was wandering around in the impenetrable darkness. I had the distinct impression they were talking about me. They sounded far away, yet right beside me at the same time. There were two boys who appeared to be young teenagers. I could not initially discern what they were saying, but I sensed that their knowledge far surpassed my own understanding. Without a sound being uttered, I felt as though they were amused at my ignorance, almost as if to say to one another, ‘If only she knew how good her life is going to be, and how rewarding the potential she has within her.” There was a little girl standing next to me in a pale pink dress. She had her back turned away from me for a moment, the first thing that caught my eye was her long curly blonde hair. She looked to be around three years old. I have no idea why, but I felt the distinct impression to ask her if she was my daughter. She never uttered a sound, she just smiled at me sheepishly with knowing eyes, a keeper of secrets, then she turned on her heels and skipped away…“
-Jenny Miner McCombs- The Addict Empath
It is a common theme among us. We naturally reflect on the events in our lives that disappoint us. The people in our lives who have let us down. The expectation of failure and grievances. This life is hard and challenging. People let us down. The people who once loved us move on. Relationships end. People die. Families are broken. But there is beauty to be found in adversity. Being able to see light when you are surrounded by darkness is a rare gift. And for me in my journey, it was life sustaining. Whether or not you have a personal belief in a higher power as I do, people can draw strength, beauty, wisdom, spirituality and serentity from many different sources. My second book in this series is an intricate collection of the moments in my life where I recognized a power and a strength far beyond my own comprehension. Random acts of kindness. Love. Strength. And wisdom. Stories of people who have been put in my path to aid me. People who have been put in my path to cause me harm, yet in doing so, led me to a place of ultimate understanding and compassion. Kindness in all of its forms is to be celebrated. Remembered and cherished. Because it was in my deepest moments of despair that I found these guiding hands that would sustain me. They brought me back to life. And gave me a perfect brightness of hope.
Dear Nora
Book Three
“Dear Nora, I do not feel that it is wise for me to wait any longer. I know that you do not know me. But I have to believe that fate will bring me to you. I have waited for some time, but I cannot wait any longer. I must pose to you the question that has been at the forefront of my mind for so long. Insecurities that continue to haunt me. Behaviors that mystify and confuse me. Some have changed the trajectory of my life. Questions that I need answered, and I need your help.“
-Jenny Miner McCombs-The Addict Empath
This book will introduce the reader to a very special friend of mine, in Nora. Much more than an imaginary pen pal to confide in, Nora is a living breathing person today with a wealth of knowledge and wisdom to share. Even though we have never met, I feel as if I have a connection to her. And I write to her as if we have been friends over the ages. The predominant theme of this third installment will center around the relevance of our natural physiology when it come to the powerful components that make up addiction, studying and exploring the Anatomy and Physiology behind modern scientific research in the study of Addiction and Substance Abuse Disorder. Raising a profound awareness to legitimate findings that support the fact that Society has yet to embrace in its entirety. That Addiction is a Disease. A powerful and chronic brain disorder that continues to effect millions of people. Many of which continue to suffer the effects of physiological altercations in the brain for weeks, months, and even years after embacing sobriety. A struggle that is ongoing. Indeed, it is a struggle that may never leave in its entirety.
Book Three will compel me to face some of my deepest insecurities. Revealed to no one other than my special friend Nora. Strangers who have never met, yet share a similar passion and commonality. I had needed her to answer some of my most personal and profound questions. Insecurities that have evoked within me a deep, and sometimes crippling, sense of intristic shame that I have never shared outwardly with a single living soul. Not with anyone. Not even my Former Sweetheart. Feelings that continue to haunt me to this day. Secrets that need to be told. Secrets that need to be shared.
Because even though I do not know her personally, I know that Nora will be able to answer many of the questions I will pose to her in this personal narrative between two strangers who have never met, yet have two unique pespectives to share with one another. Whether we will truly meet in real life remains a mystery. I can’t wait to find out how this particular story will end.
My Former Sweetheart
Book Four
Theme Song for My Former Sweetheart
“Why didn’t you tell me that they wanted to abandon me outright? To throw me out onto the street and to leave me homeless?” I asked him. He paused. He hesitated slightly, shifting uncomfortably in my prescense, looking down at his feet. He drew in a deep, controlled breath and exhaled slowly. He spoke. “Because I didn’t want your memory of them to be forever tarnished. Damaged beyond repair. I didn’t tell you because at that point in time, I thought that we still might have had a chance.” For the briefest of moments, I said nothing. Then the words escaped my lips. “After all. We Still together. Let’s surprise everyone by staying together.” I whispered softly. Our Mantra. What we would always say, one to another, when things would get tough with merciless consistency. There were indeed times when we both wanted out. Where we both felt helpless and frightened. Yet we clung to those three words, the two of us, right up until the battle lines were drawn. When alliances misaligned. Silenced. Voices that would not, indeed they could not be heard. Fate designed it that way, the full reasons of which eludes me. He pulled out a ring, a shining green emerald within a pure gold setting. He once told me that it was his greatest earthly possession. But that it paled in comparison to his greatest eternal one.”
-Jenny Miner McCombs- The Addict Empath
Book Four will introducue the reader to a character who has always been a very special part of my life. I will, in turn, write him as I have written my friend Nora. But he is more than a friend. He is my family. As fate would have it, he is me. I remember fondly his scent, his cologne infused in an old recliner that I used to curl up on. I remember the feeling of saftey it evoked. I remember the warmth in his voice. I remember how it softened whenever he uttered the words, ‘My Former Sweetheart.’ I could hear Reverence. I could hear Respect. I could hear Honor. And I always remembered that. It left a profound impact on me. Memories of a woman with whom he shared far more than life, than children. Memories of a life that once held so much promise. A woman he had to let go. But a woman that he will always cherish. A woman he will always refer to as, ‘My Former Sweetheart.’
‘My Former Sweetheart.’ I had no way of knowing in my youth that his sentiment would one day reflect my own. I had no way of understanding the commonalities that fate would bring us as I grew into adulthood. The experiences that we would share that would bind us together, that would leave the same words escaping our lips. My correspondence with him will explore in depth the vast landscape of psychology and mental health. Just as Nora helped me explain our physiology, I will call upon family to help me answer, yet again, more secrets. Secrets of my past that have continued to perplex and mystify me. Questions that I feel need answered.
Because this much I know. When voices are not heard. When voices are not heeded. There will always be repurcussions. And indeed there were with me. I will explore my past with him. I will explore our present. And I will explore with him the dire implications that will continue to occur if our voices continue to be unheard, unheeded and at times, forcibly hindered.
My First Secret Keeper
Book Five
“If I have taught you anything, know this. Love yourself. All of yourself. Love your scars. Embrace your imperfections. For we are not a stain on society. The reality is, we are society. We have a great deal more goodness to bring to this world. We have known of the greatest loss and the greatest devastation. The greatest loneliness and isolation. Because of what we have endured, we can do anything. We have within us the power and limitless potential of a voice, and they will hear from us. We can no longer afford to cater to the mystique of anonymity anymore. The reality is, I am drowning in Madagascar. Our stories are going to change the lives of so many, and that will bring us joy, hope and peace. And I am so excited. So very excited to bring healing to the thousands and thousands of people the world over who feel as we do. Who think as we do. Who hurt as we once have. Who feel that hopelessness and that exclusion. The scars we carry, inside and out, match the scars of thousands. We are just like them. We will facilitate the use of their voices. We will use our voices to strengthen theirs in turn. Because everybody deserves to be heard. And that is exactly what I am going to do. I am Drowning in Madagascar. The time for anonymity is over. This is who I am. I found the purpose for my pain. I made sense of my suffering. And we will have wonderful, promising lives. So go and live it. Change the world. One voice at a time. Because this is us. Our lives. Our stories. Our home.”
-Jenny Miner McCombs- The Addict Empath
The Fifth installment of my series highlights the many stories that I have gathered, and the many people that I have met throughout my extensive research. These are people who I have felt a special connection with, or who I feel will be receptive to my message of compassion and empathy. These are the stories of my Secret Keepers. Many of them I have found commonality with through struggle, adversity, and shared mutual experiences. Many of them have shared stories of triumph over addiction, struggle and stigma. Many of them have shattered preconcieved notions about what I thought I knew. These people have taught me, enriched me, facilitated my narrative, and have brought prominence, perspective, and depth to both my research and my humanity. Because I have found throughout my research that people, whether they suffer from addiction or not, are predominatley good. I chose to draw wisdom from their strength and perseverance. And they have taught me charity, love, compassion, empathy, and so much more. These are the collective works of the very people who have sustained me, taught me, encouraged me, and loved me. They were often the very people that you would not expect. Shattering misconceptions about superficial stereotypes, how we tend to judge without forethought, and how the most precious wisdom can be drawn from the most unexpected places. This book is dedicated to all of my Secret Keepers.
Dear Future You
Book Six
“I told myself that I would play the music, even if it was just one song. The fleshy, tender parts of me would solidify and strengthen. They would crack, they would blister, they would bleed. There is reverence in it. My nails would be shorn down to the surface of my physical frame. It is a sacrifice of devotion. Pressed firmly upon the dense strands of catgut and ebony, I would create a sound full of vigor reflective of an organic force. An unseen energy created to stimulate the natural order of forward motion. The strings, derived from the most humble of creatures, the gut of the lamb is embedded within its core. Once highly sought after for its propensity to produce warm and beautiful tones. The earth would continue to shake and I would shake my arm. I would shake my wrist. My fingers would sway and dance among the underlying smoothness of the fingerboard, right up to the bridge. It sustains life. It facilitates the music, a deep and resounding vibrato. Rising with me, a resounding crescendo that is the continuation of my story, led by the graceful baton of my conductor’s hand. He is there to guide me throughout the abstract shapes of black among white, connected by delicate waves of intricate formation. To learn its language is to devote oneself to its unique interpretation. For there is no solitary way to learn one’s own song. The master is refined in his ability to be subtle. He is ever present and unmovable, if only I would seek to lift my eyes and fix my gaze steady upon him until the music dissipates into fleeting memory. When I heard the song I was mesmerized. I knew then that I would play. I would teach myself someday. When I had the time. When I could nourish my hungry soul and nurture my secret passions. I would wear black again, elegant and refined. My hair would be swept up in a wistful cloud of volumus cumulus atop the rebirth of brunette silk. I always felt more comfortable that way. More natural. More like myself. It was a shade he never understood in its entirety. To him, it seemed as if it was unnatural of me to alter the origins of my golden hue, tarnished, I perceived, by dull undertones devoid of true vibrancy. I was not bright in my own eye and I did not shine. Yet I yielded to conformity. There was an unspoken shift. An unnatural misalignment. I felt unsettled deep within me. I tried to conceal it for the briefest of moments throughout our union, a feeble resolve that would prove to be futile multiple times over. And yet, there was love. And there was life. To deny this would be to deny the eternal gift of our sacred creation. The lives in turn that forever bind us. Enrich us. Strengthen us. Yet even so, I will play. I will play for myself first. And perhaps one day, I will play for another. An unknown chapter in the continuation of my story. A divine mystery in and of itself. A future you, bound to a future me. When you love me for everything that I am. When you embrace me in my purest of forms, I will find you. And I will play. I will follow the rhythm of my own heart. I will not yield and cower in bitterness and regret when subjected to the lofty ideal of lasting love and contentment. I will not attempt to defy its beauty. I will embrace the possibilities freely. It would cascade around my shoulders. Gravity would pull it down in silk rain among the vulnerability of my frame once more. And I would play. My scarred legs would straddle the deep curvature of the F holes. A hollow void facilitating the deepest of sounds. A place of serenity. My toes intertwined around the coolness of the pin as they glide down from the tailcord, following it’s path to a firm foundation upon which to play. I will wrap myself in concert black for the sanctity of my own resolve. And then, when that moment in my life presents itself; I promise, I will play for you. The blackness that bound me to the illusion of secrecy once held within the pages of a little black book will represent once more that of elegance and refinement. I will gaze upon no other but you as you guide me along a new journey. When the blackness falls, gently down to my ankles, this hollow place of serenity will sing to you my song. And I will play.”
Jenny Miner McCombs- The Addict Empath
“Sometimes life can be hard to navigate. It can shake you up and break you down. It can challenge you in ways you never thought it would. It can make you question who you are and where you are going. But I need you to remember one thing: it doesn’t end here. This is just one chapter in your infinite story. There is still so much to see. You have the strength to overcome this. To close this chapter to turn the page and begin again. The world has so much left for you. There are a million beautiful things waiting to be discovered. There Are Places you haven’t seen and people you haven’t met. There are books to read, dreams to chase, stars to count and waves to catch. Your story isn’t over, it is the only beginning. You are the author of your own story. If you just keep writing you will find that the pages get lighter, the chapters get better and the story itself is filled with endless love and possibility.”
-Bryan Anthony
- My Subconsious Desire“The beating of his heart was Mercifully calming mine. His chest pressed resolutley against the outward frame of my lungs; and my breath of Life, Swaying to the Rhythm of his Soothing Heart. A Visceral and Psychosomatic …
- Twenty Minutes with Grandma’s Tablemate“This is Grandma’s tablemate. The man that they just mentioned in the eulogy. The man who encouraged her to fill that empty seat across from her in the dining room in her moments of somber frustration“ …
- My Twenty Minutes with Grandma“Her stroke was unique among many that I had seen at the facility. Not nearly enough loss of sensation to render her completely devoid of feeling, but enough loss to render the simple luxury of getting …
- How to Become the Medicine. A Healthcare Tribute to my Newest Secret Keeper- Dr. Evan JohnsonGreetings Drowning Readers, I want to take a minute to give a wonderful and uplifting shout out to my Newest of Secret Keepers– Dr. “EJ.” A Fellow Thought Leader, Life Sustaining Kindness Recipient, and Inspirational Powerhouse. …
- A Legendary Story- My Newest Secret Keeper, “TM”I am wishing all of my Readers a very Happy Holiday Season. My latest Secret Keeper, is another Power House Thought Leader that I had the privledge of getting to know just a little bit better …
Continue reading “A Legendary Story- My Newest Secret Keeper, “TM””
Drowning in Madagascar 