stockvault-garden-tap137634Glancing down at the list of things I need to get done today, I’ve come to the command decision to march back to bed and hide under the covers until it all goes away.

Rather adult of me, don’t you think?

Yesterday, as you could no doubt tell from my blog, was a rather ugly experience.

Self-pity is a beastly thing and one that I abhor. I am blessed in so many ways, it is truly laughable for me to complain.


(And isn’t there always a “but” when Chloe is around?)

Despite all this high and mighty talk, I still tend to face-plant into the “poor, poor me” muck and mire much more often than I’d like.

Yesterday was one of those belly-flop in the crap moments.

I apologize. I assure you that I have run the garden hose over myself repeatedly and am now free of the bulls**t stink.

I hope.

My dog’s still looking at me funny so more hosing off might be in order. (Yeah, well, I’ll schedule that sometime in between writing 1k words on a book due in under 3 weeks, filling out 8 sheets of medical forms, dropping said-medical forms off at a new doctor’s office which I haven’t got a clue as to where its located, and then going to the grocery store and trying not to let the stockers spook me into a piteous yelp (by that point the Prozac will have run down to fumes, and when the Prozac runs down public embarrassment ensues.)

Oh yeah, back under the covers for me and my lingering stink.

*chuckles gamely*

Until tomorrow…


Acclaimed author of 17 novels (my dogs and mother adore me), World traveler (I’ve felt the Sahara Desert between my toes… still gobsmacked over the stars in the Sahara) And survivor (of three dirty-fighting gremlins named Anxiety, Panic and OCD)… My name is Chloe Stowe. Hello. If you’ve found your way here, you’ve most likely arrived on the coattails of my blog, The Words and Madness of Chloe Stowe. Started in 2012, my daily rantings now number in the thousands. Ranging from humorous to moody, poignant to absurd, these tiny tidbits of thought began as a way to get my name “out there.” It has long since morphed into an effort just to “be there” for anybody out there struggling with words or madness, like me. Quick biographical sketch of me? Nerd turned nut at nineteen. In my sophomore year at Auburn University, I was taken out at the knees by severe panic attacks. Chronic anxiety soon joined the dogpile, followed shortly by OCD tendencies. Oh, it was ugly. I eventually had to quit school and soon quit life, as well. I spent a good chunk of my 20’s not able to leave my room. Twenty years later, it’s still can get ugly in my head. Thanks to meds and doctors, however, I am able to lead a better life, now. I still can’t work outside the house, but I can live and smile and write. So, here I am. Broken, but stubbornly present. I hope my voice proves company to someone lonely out there. Thanks for reading! Chloe Stowe

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