Sunday's sunrise looked just like that epic one from weeks ago—same impossible oranges, same fire painted across the water. I, however, was different. This time, I wasn't anticipating disaster but processing triumph. God had to prove that when I finally stepped back from the conductor's podium, He could orchestrate something more beautiful than my rigid score ever allowed.
bipolar
When Glory Fades: Recognizing Divine Yes in the Waiting
Thursday morning, standing in that tangerine fire, I'd felt held by something infinite. The sunrise was teaching me something about recognition: This is what arrival feels like. This is what yes tastes like—metallic and sweet on your tongue. But when the publishing offer came, where was the orange glow? Sometimes the holiest ground is right there in the middle, suspended between shores.
The Mania September Demands: When Routine Becomes Your Lifeline
My brain woke me at 3am with a mental inventory of everything I needed before students arrived. This is September's paradox for educators with mood disorders: the start of school requires hypomania while you're trying to maintain stability. When my carefully constructed accommodations fell apart, I remembered where my real anchor lies.
The Last Day of Summer: Preparing to Teach with Mental Illness in the Open
Today was the last day of summer, and it didn't sneak up on me. Despite a packed day ahead, I positioned myself at Fort Monroe to welcome the dawn of my last official day of summer vacation. As I prepare to return to teaching, I'm carrying a different kind of fear: Since I've come out publicly about my mental illness, will there be pushback? I readily own my ADHD because I can model accommodations for my students. But will I ever feel safe admitting I have bipolar disorder? Sometimes the very things we're most afraid to reveal become the bridges that help others feel less alone.
Writer's Growth 