Tag: depression

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Abuse looks like this

This is what abuse looks like, and it’s not even about the abusers.

Where would abusers be without their enablers?

Will we ever have the courage to look in the mirror and realize who the enablers are? But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s circle back to that in a minute. Meanwhile grind your teeth at a few examples.

Kathie Klages, comfortably retired. Maybe.

Michigan State University has been front and center in the Larry Nassar scandal. But how did he get away with it for so long? Continue reading “Abuse looks like this”

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Too little too late, Mister Pope


It is I, Francis, your shepherd. Hear me, I have spoken.

Great news, Catholics. This week in pedophilia, your very own Pope Francis wrote you a nice letter. A letter too long coming, a letter strong on intention, a letter too weak on real-world action.

As reported by BBC, His Holiness penned the message after a sharp kick in the ass from the Attorney General of Pennsylvania, Continue reading “Too little too late, Mister Pope”

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The Magic of Looking the Other Way

Our man our hero Chuck Wendig has proposed writing on “The Danger of Undeserved Power.” Which of course is what this site and “Diamonds and Dirt” are all about.

While we’re busy thrashing about and challenging the obvious, an insidious poison still creeps through our land. While we puff our chests and claim vigilance, the evil of undeserved power struts by unchallenged.

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Safe in the pool? Maybe not.

The Parents.

To her, they weren’t My Parents. They were The Parents. Aloof, dismissive, self-absorbed, the dividing line was a fine one but oh so clear. They didn’t give two shits about her. She knew it. She’d given up wishing long ago. She tried her damnedest not to care either. Continue reading “The Magic of Looking the Other Way”

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Dear Aly Raisman’s mom…

Dear Lynn Raisman,

That interview blew us away. Not just Aly demanding to know why USA Gym continues to let her down, but the face-to-face with you… Sixty Minutes in your kitchen, millions of Americans peering at you as TV guests in your home, and you were so matter-of-fact. There was no rage there, no clawing at the camera demanding blood for what that man did to your daughter.

Where did you bury it? What little lockbox in your brain was holding all those thoughts in there, just for safekeeping? You had to stay proper. It was an interview, and you had to be honest, but you were still the hostess. And you’re still… well… you’re Lynn Raisman. You’re that lady…

Sweet, sensational, viral. Mom and dad can’t keep still while Aly Raisman competes. photo: Today Show, NBC

Continue reading “Dear Aly Raisman’s mom…”

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Leann’s Brown Eyes

No sign of spring yet in our town.

The eyes got me.

They weren’t the first thing we saw. The first thing was a grocery cart, packed with stuff. And a figure hunched alone on a stool, wrapped in layers. And the cardboard sign that turns so many people away.

“Would you give me $5 or a blanket?” is all it said. But the images swirled, angry faces, righteous people. How often has every one of us claimed there shouldn’t be any begging, there’s plenty of help available, dammit there’s free food everywhere you look and what sucker would give these beggars any money when they just buy booze or go off to the casino.

But we needed to talk, a couple old well-fed dudes volunteering for the government, doing the annual Point-in-time Count with a clipboard and a backpack full of fresh socks and granola bars. Continue reading “Leann’s Brown Eyes”

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The shrink who said I’d never write

Yeah, that’s the guy.

He was joking, of course.

And I took it that way. Just to be clear about that part. In fact we got a good laugh about it.

But the joking came after a lecture to a packed room full of writers about childhood trauma’s effect on our adult creative abilities. His premise, based on research, was that writing and other artistic pursuits help to maintain sanity for adults who experienced trauma as children. Continue reading “The shrink who said I’d never write”