I’m not sure what’s going on with my inability to sleep or eat. I took medicine last night and I couldn’t stay asleep for more than two hours and this has been going on for a week. I’m trying to track the things that may be the cause, like I took my testosterone shot, but I take that every ten days and this seems to happen every few months… at least it feels that way. I haven’t exactly kept track of how often it happens. I’m running on fumes. The eating… that’s not something

I’ve been struggling to get myself out of the house. To sleep. To eat. To bathe. I don’t feel as disoriented as I was, but I’m still not back to baseline yet. I have to go donate plasma today, and I wasn’t sure that I was going to manage to get there, but I think I will. I got myself to bathe, and I also managed to get something in my stomach. Now I just have to get myself to get out the door. Then out of my car. And after that, I’ll be good. The weight of emotions that come

In my therapy session today we talked about a lot, but one thing that stuck with me is the internal conflict that came up. We were talking about how it’s hard for me to share the content of my flashbacks sometimes. Not just because it’s hard to say out loud, but because some of them don’t feel real. I’m not even sure they actually happened. At some point she asked me what it would feel like to share them while also saying that I’m not certain about what happened. And immediat

I want to share a change that’s coming. After sitting with the feedback I’ve received over the past few months, and as my own understanding has evolved, I’ve come to the decision that the risk of harm is too great to keep the review section of this site up. Within the next week, I’ll be removing it and shifting this space into just my blog. The writing will stay the same. I’ll still be here, sharing what comes up for me as I move through this work and trying to make sense of

I have therapy tomorrow, and I’m anxious about it. Opening up about the things I don’t have figured out yet is hard. It’s been sobering watching how many strides my ex has taken since we separated. In a way, continuing to live together and remaining friends has allowed me to see the cost I had on her. It’s imprinted in my mind—the ways I was affecting her quality of life. I wouldn’t have been able to see that if we had done things in a more traditional way. It stings. To real

Searching… That’s what I’ve Been Up to. Searching for my soul, My identity, My values. I know them well, My values, that is. But sometimes I stray From what Truly is. I’m lost. I’m alone. I’m sinking More than I swim. I’m trying to Fight for my life, Trying hard not To let depression win. And all my mistakes, They haunt me like ghosts. They make me feel like a bad human, A burden to most. And if I could change One thing, It would be: To live my life By my values, Indefinitely

Is he there I’m not sure… I’m not sure I know who he is anymore Reflection blank Eyes deserted Chest hollow It’s hurting He embodies My features But not My heart He’s absent of direction… Absent of thought His brain feels fried And thick with chalk How do I connect when I’m not aware of who I am When I feel Like I’m Floating… Dragging through sand How do I exist as a person when the bones of me are scared to live How do I keep Fighting To remain Or do More Than exist

I’ve been feeling disconnected from myself lately. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t know if I should be driving. I took a few days off work to try to ground myself and get back to feeling connected enough to function. I’m not really sure what’s going on. I can’t trace it back to anything that could have triggered it. But I also can’t really think clearly or remember much from the last couple of weeks, so it’s probably something, just something I can’t remember.

Today is my ex’s birthday, and reflecting on how good of a person she is, how much she adds to this world, has also brought up grief for me. The grief of losing her as a partner. Alongside that grief, there is also acceptance. There is understanding. And it still hurts to sit with that reality. The more internal work I do, the more the layers start to peel back, the more I realize how hard life with me can be for other people. I don’t mean that in a self-deprecating way, just

My brain feels like jello today. Maybe I’ve been pushing myself too hard or trying to tackle too much at once. I’m trying not to be frustrated about it and to just take it as a sign that I need to give myself some space to breathe before trying to continue processing things. On a different note, the fog is really dense at work today, and it makes the grounds even more beautiful, in my opinion. It makes me wish I could lay out on a hammock and listen to music. I’ll settle for

I submitted one of my poems to be published in a zine that gets distributed in a few different cities. I was fully expecting it to go nowhere. Yesterday, I got an email saying they loved my piece and will be putting it in an upcoming issue. I’ve never submitted my work before, and honestly, because what I write is very personal to me, it isn’t something I easily share. Even though I’ve always had this hope, or goal, of one day creating enough to make a book of my poetry. Even

Today my therapist made a connection that I had never come to on my own, and it did two things at the same time. Honestly, it did a lot. Up until this point, I had assumed that my previous therapist terminated the way she did to intentionally hurt me, that she must have hated me. My therapist linked that belief back to my trauma memory of being intentionally hurt. I was caught off guard. I think it took me 20–30 seconds just to take a breath. A lot went on after she said that

It’s gut punching to realize how narrowed my lens has been… and how I didn’t see that my emails were coming across as accusations until now. I think that’s why my biggest lesson has been, regulate before communicating. Because a lot of what I was trying to do was hand her what my brain was telling me and I didn’t do a good job at making that clear. I am honestly embarrassed about everything and I wish I understood why it consistently takes me so long to fully understand thing

I’m not sure what happened, to be honest. It’s like another part of my brain unlocked, and I’m starting to see and realize my own responsibility in what happened. I’m not sure what was preventing me from fully seeing it before. Maybe it was the shock and the hurt, or defenses. I’m still struggling to form a cohesive thought around it because I feel like I’m being stretched in two directions at the same time, maybe even more than two. But my words and my actions caused the ter

Fingers grip it Through trembling hands The weight of a pencil Never more felt Than in the moment It grazes The paper Laid below it And maybe It won’t feel The coarseness Against the graphite tip Maybe the hands That shake will Lay it down And let memories Do what writing Cannot convey

Foot to pavement Before the sun Appears The pattering Echoes off The path Trembling Through the cracks And the grass Flowers At peak bloom Swaying with The rhythm Of the feet Whispering As they drag Off into the Distance Footprints Fading Before sunlight Finds the path

I’m having a hard time right now with letting go of the fact that there’s not much chance for my ex and I working things out in a way that puts us back into each other’s lives as romantic partners. We had a heart to heart where she told me she doesn’t know when she fell out of love with me, but it’s been for some time. That’s fair. I haven’t really been much of a partner to be in love with. I think it still hurts even though I know a lot of the downfall is on me. I made a lot

Yesterday ended with me having dinner with my family and then playing video games with my godson. He "cooked" me, which is apparently the new term for "he whooped my ass". We played Super Smash Bros and he likes to be the same characters when we fight. He also likes to add 6 computer players, all the same characters, so you can imagine that trying to figure yourself out on the screen is complicated lol. I think my brother is over his shenanigans because he told him he would o

Have you ever had words feel like a hug? I experienced that yesterday in my session. I can’t really remember most of it. I think I was too flooded to stay aware enough to retain what was said, from both myself and her. But the feeling stayed. Feeling like she could hold my pain without it hurting her. Without it scaring her. There is one moment that I remember vividly. I had just admitted how scared I was to show up to therapy. What she said after that might seem like just a

My birthdays are always really hard for me. I don’t feel deserving of all the best wishes and with everything being really heavy lately, it is messing with me more than usual. I’m so appreciative of the people who take the time to let me know they are thinking of me, and I wish that my heart could fully accept it. I’m also appreciative of the pressure release yesterday offered me, and the afternoon of feeling a little less weighed down… and at the same time I also wish I coul