Select audio recordings of essays from
Abnormal Mom's Survival Guide
Audio Recordings
Below are audio recordings of selected posts from The Abnormal Mom's Survival Guide. All content written and read by Cindy Falteich.
Don't Pack Your Baggage

Yeah, I Have Anxiety
By every definition of the condition, it’s evident. I have anxiety. Leaving the house is an undeserved chore and I’d rather starve than watch the automatic doors greet me at the grocery. The thought of abandoning the isolated comfort of my cottage paralyzes me. But I do it. Because what I want in life makes the choice a necessary evil.

Blank Slate
If you desire something other than what life has become, the shift you’re looking for will never occur until you embrace one thing: awareness—simple recognition of the thought you’re thinking that drives the behavior you use in every single interaction that has created the life you currently live—one you now claim you don’t prefer.
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Your Last Day Ever
Horse owners build dwellings and fence pastures always preparing for the worst but expecting the best. Saddles, bridles and boots are designed for function in the worst of times. It takes years to build a relationship where a girl and a horse create magic, where each knows the other and cues become innate, and especially where the good is never overshadowed by that rare occurrence called “a bad ride.” Who knows who’s to blame for it but every rider knows there will come a day when there’s only one thing left to do: put him away and come back tomorrow.

How Fear Is Disgusting Itself
I doubted the pond had anything more to say, I mean, how many times could I stand by murky water and get a message? The urge that day to plant myself on the rock wall amid goat turds and mown grass debris to dangle my feet in the cool water was, I felt, ridiculous, but I did it anyway.

Why You Are Here
I arrived, anxious and hesitant, even with my husband by my side, wondering what the day would bring.
Then instantly in the sparsely populated room, I sideswiped a stranger, making me feel like an imbecile. Politely she apologized, as did I since it appeared to me to be my fault, but I found something familiar in her stature and her face. She failed to recognize me but took the conversation to the next level, saying, “Well, let’s see how we’d know each other. For starters, why are you here?”

Is There Any Such Thing as Luck?
Good luck, bad luck, fate, destiny, karma. Each word elicits an emotional response. Each describes something that seems out of my control. As such, I don’t care for them. I don’t appreciate my emotions jump-roping through commas like an Indy car leading the heart of my emotional soul by the nose. There is only one thing I can control and that is my thoughts. How I choose to feel in any given moment is up to me.
So what do I do when those words are jumping through a conversation?
