Ginger's Blog
More Than Small Talk
Even as a little girl, long before a wider world I knew, something was not quite right with me. I recall large family gatherings, the ones where endless amounts of feeling-stuffing food was passed around freely, yet not a single word of meaningful conversation ever...
Me, The Saboteur
We all have a story. A place from which we arrived. Within this frame, we can trace and seek understanding as to why our life script has played out the way it has. Yes, somewhere it all makes sense. No one is crazy to themselves. Within our individual context, there...
More Than Speed
I’m sure there is historical documentation as to when efficiency became our societal’s value. More is better. Faster is king. Get more in. On the double. Pronto. Perhaps, it is about money. The more I can produce in a shorter amount of time, the fatter my wallet. Why...
Learning to Feel
When a couple first enters my office, they are usually bleeding badly. Like an emergency room doctor in a life or death situation. I must act fast. I move to triage the pain as to stop them from further hurting the relationship before someone has to call it dead....
Enjoying Life’s Plum
By most counts, I am still a young woman yet I can already tell you that I don't like this aging thing. It sucks. My energy is no longer limitless. I don’t recognize my body in the mirror. Every day, simple things, frequently vacate my mind. In-style fashion would...
Freud: A User-Friendly Version
Many moons ago, I moved to Washington DC to open a practice with a prominent psychiatrist. I was young, green and a recent graduate from my Master’s program. He believed in me, mentored me and launched me on the professional path that has led to here, this time, this...
Loving the Life You Have
I swear it happens weekly. I open my mouth and some clerk or new patient or person on the street asks me where I am from. I feel like a transplant from a foreign land. Even though I left decades ago and have successfully eradicated the "ya'lls" and the "yonders" from...
Cleaning Closets
I am used to it by now. Someone calls. They want an appointment. We meet. I hear the tip, the tip of the iceberg, that moment that toppled them into seeking professional help. I tell them who I am, what I can offer them and how I provide it. They tell me that...
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