There Is Life After Opioids
| This is the 426th story of Our Life Logs | I woke to the sound of a nearby train as it whooshed by. I groaned as I stretched my legs out on the compact, double seat of a CTA train I’d chosen for refuge the night before. It wasn’t comfy, but it beat Chicago’s cold and grimy streets. Pain shot through my limbs as I shifted, … Continue reading There Is Life After Opioids
A Speedy Recovery
| This is the 425th story of Our Life Logs | The crowd cheered as I crossed the finish line, a blur of color and churned up soil. I came to an abrupt halt. My heart was in my mouth as I pulled the helmet off my head and raised my arms into the air, celebrating with the crowd. I gazed around in disbelief. I’d done it. … Continue reading A Speedy Recovery
Fighting Free
| This is the 424th story of Our Life Logs | Maybe it would have been a lot different if life had stayed peaceful and carefree like when I first came into this world. I was born in Gudi in present-day North-Central Nigeria, in 1956. I was the third and the only girl in the family, blessed with two old brothers and a younger one, who was … Continue reading Fighting Free
Leaving Hate Behind
| This is the 423rd story of Our Life Logs | So, what do you want to know? I was born in 1982, grew up in and around Raleigh, North Carolina, and was raised by a mother who lived and breathed drugs. Our home wasn’t stable. We moved more times than I’d like to remember. My siblings and I accompanied our mother to a lot of clubs … Continue reading Leaving Hate Behind
Memories of a Minesweeper
| This is the 422nd story of Our Life Logs | I was born in 1908, the third of four children, two boys and two girls, in Birmingham, England. I can still remember the smell of the city streets before there were cars. Trams and horse-drawn carts trundled past, merchants delivered goods daily, as we lined up to buy coal, bread, milk, and fish from them. If … Continue reading Memories of a Minesweeper
Once a Passive Passenger
| This is the 421st story of Our Life Logs | I had made a huge mistake. I knew it as I felt the Clonazepam taking effect. I was becoming tired, confused, and weak. I shouldn’t have taken all those pills, I didn’t want to die. I needed to get to a phone to call 911, but it was so hard to move. The world was swimming … Continue reading Once a Passive Passenger
Where We Land
| This is the 420th story of Our Life Logs | Growing up, I spent countless hours playing the game, “Operation,” meticulously navigating the clip to avoid touching the metal surrounding the “bones.” After I had completed each game successfully, I felt a profound sense of happiness and pride in being able to help the game man. For as long as I can remember, I wanted to … Continue reading Where We Land
What Lies Within Us
| This is the 419th story of Our Life Logs | When the going gets tough, the tough get going. This sentence pretty much sums up my whole life. I was born in 1995 to a Muslim family as the middle child of five girls. We lived in a well-reputed area in Sahiwal, Pakistan. Sahiwal is known as one of the most breathtaking cities in Punjab because … Continue reading What Lies Within Us
A Conscious Choice
| This is the 418th story of Our Life Logs | What is a flower in the dark? It is nothing— But in the light It can be made new. -CW I was a Hispanic baby, born premature in Indiana in 1988 to a single mother and an absent father. I guess with him gone, my mother didn’t have much interest in parenting. I know she loved … Continue reading A Conscious Choice
The Fight of My Life
| This is the 417th story of Our Life Logs | I lay in the hospital bed, pain racking my body as chemicals and super-science ran through my blood. I was like Captain America, I was like the Incredible Hulk, but unlike my childhood heroes, I wasn’t going to come out the other side with super-powers. I was just hoping I’d make it out with my life. … Continue reading The Fight of My Life
Life Is for the Taking
| This is the 416th story of Our Life Logs | I guess it all begins with my parents’ ice cream shop. In the early 1990s, my father and his brother left their home in Macedonia to pursue their dream of opening a restaurant together. This was all exciting for them…until my father longed to go back to Macedonia. He was homesick for the beautiful city, the … Continue reading Life Is for the Taking
The Ghosts of the Past
| This is the 416th story of Our Life Logs | For as far back as I can remember, I have always been drawn to the arts. I remember in the early ‘90s when I was about five or six, I got lost following some street performers who passed by my house in Chiclayo, Peru. Among them were musicians, actors, and storytellers. Their world seemed so fascinating … Continue reading The Ghosts of the Past