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If you have never heard Janis Ian’s 1975 song At Seventeen, take a moment to listen before reading. If you already know it, listen again. Its emotional truth is part of what this reflection explores. Few songs capture the feeling of not belonging as honestly as this one. If you have never heard Janis Ian’s 1975 song At Seventeen, it is one of the most painfully truthful songs ever written about what it feels like to believe you are not accepted. What makes the song so beautif

There are some people we meet who make us stop for a moment and quietly wonder: What if life had unfolded differently? What if I were younger? What if they were older? Not because we are unhappy. Not because we are searching. And not because every meaningful connection is meant to become something more. But because every once in a while, another human being appears and reminds us that some part of us is still capable of being startled fully awake. As we get older, people ofte

Over the years, people have asked me where many of my ideas about mental health, addiction, recovery, human services, and institutional systems actually come from. The answer is definitely NOT social media. They came from decades working inside these systems — but also from reading researchers, psychologists, sociologists, philosophers, trauma experts, recovery thinkers, anthropologists, cult researchers, and people willing to ask uncomfortable questions about power, identity

My brother and I are in the process of selling my mother’s house. A house she has lived in for 40 years. Not because we want to. Because we HAVE to. The cost of her care at McAuley Residence in Tonawanda, NY is just under $17,000 per month. That’s over $200,000 a year. So naturally, the question becomes: What exactly does our family getting for $17,000 a month? What You’re Paying For — And What You’re Not At $17,000 a month, this is what you’re actually getting: Room and boar

I’ve been noticing something lately that doesn’t quite make sense to me. And I think part of it is because my dad died this year… And my mom is on her way. So death isn’t some abstract idea right now. It’s… right here. When I’m sitting alone, in my head, thinking about it— Not existing. Just… gone. It scares the hell out of me. Like a deep, almost panicky kind of fear. But here’s the part I can’t reconcile. If I picture a real situation— A client of mine in danger. Someone tr