The Wolf Finally Frees Itself - a column by Brianna Albers

I’m listening to my caregiver’s daughter talk about life as a first grader when I realize … I’m old. I don’t know when it happened. One minute, I was graduating high school, and the next I was turning 30. The thought is terrifying. Where did all that time go?…

Every once in a while, I’m seized with unbearable jealousy. That’s not true. It isn’t jealousy so much as a sense of falling behind. Social media, while great for some things, is horrid when it comes to self-comparison. Every day, we come face to face with the many ways…

Jokes are my coping mechanism of choice. If there’s tension in the room, you can bet I’m trying to come up with some way to lighten the mood. I pride myself on staying as chipper as possible, even in difficult situations, like getting stuck repeatedly with needles. It’s amazing what…

Content warning: This column discusses medical trauma. Last in a series. Read part one here.  I knew something was wrong when I started throwing up. After an eight-hour wait in an emergency room far from home, I’d finally gotten my feeding tube replaced — not by a medical professional,…

Content warning: This column discusses medical trauma. First in a series. Who really knows what time it is? 11? 12? 1? Time blurs when you’re on the precipice of something that will throw a wrench in all of your plans. I’m lying in bed in our newly purchased recreational…

On a Sunday morning in mid-November, I opened my email to a newsletter from one of my favorite writers, Catherine Andrews. In it, she named the past 15 years of her life as being particularly contractive. She struggled with everything, from her relationship with alcohol to dating and creativity.

Some people live for cold weather. They hate the heat, for some strange, inexplicable reason, and live for the day when they can pull out their chunky knit sweaters and thick, fuzzy socks. I am not one of those people. Aesthetically, I love the colder months. I love candles and…