Hey, I’m Hannah.

I am twenty-six, adventurous with a terrible sense of direction, and a big fan of stories that stick around long after you’ve finished them.

I’m here to share some stories.

Channeling Nana

Nana has survived some shit. This, we have always known. It explains her morbidly optimistic outlook, her incredible ability to move forward in the face of adversity, and much of our family’s collective neuroses. But how did she do it?

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A Collective Panic Attack

Have you ever had a panic attack? It struck me this week that many people may never have felt the weary tightness in their chest, watched helplessly as the world tilted behind their eyes, been overcome by a silent, lurking, whirling darkness.

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Leaning On Each Other

Running forward, jumping in, attacking head on, knocking over lampshades and stepping in potholes, moving with the clunky conviction of an oversized ship that has set its course without looking at the map.  Moving, moving, onto what’s next, towards somewhere, a shoulder smacking against the wall, a trap door opening underfoot. We are clumsy and the floor is gone and there is pain. But we lean on each other. Grief has stolen the floor, but we lean on each other. Your elbow here, my arm there, and if we all stand in a circle we will hold each other up. When you are heavy, I will hold you. When I am heavy, I will give you my body to hold. When we are both heavy, let us lay side by side with heads on shoulders until the weight lifts, even just for a second. We’ll keep searching in the dark, together.