Brain Detours

Writing here has been… helpful in ways. I’ve noticed patterns I wouldn’t have picked up on as easily if I were journaling. I think because when I journal, I write so much that it all just gets lost. Here, things feel a little more contained, and that’s made certain patterns easier to see. Right now, I notice three different reasons for grief at the forefront of my experience. My childhood stuff, the things that used to flood my day-to-day life, seems to have taken a back seat

Shifting has been a big part of my experience lately. Feeling different from moment to moment. Sometimes feeling like I’m floating more than I feel like I’m walking. And I don’t have the proper language to describe the feeling, or the capacity to remember enough to accurately describe what I mean. All I know is that when everything is constantly moving, it feels really difficult to pin down who you are. It’s part of why I think I’m always feeling so lonely and so disconnected

I’ve been having trouble letting my thoughts live here lately. Today the grief I feel has been overwhelming. When it’s intense like this, it’s hard to take a breath in. I wish I knew what triggers it to hit like this. It’s grief for a lot of different people, and for situations. And honestly, the weight of what’s going on, not just in our country, but in the world, has been heavy. I feel like there is pressure to have hope and find joy now, and I don’t know how to do that. I

I wish I could tell you what causes such extreme shifts, but I’m feeling a lot better. I’m not going to question it, I don’t want to accidentally pull myself back into the pits. This is a short update, but that’s because my brain is clear. ☺️

Today I feel better than I did yesterday. I’m not really sure whether the grief brought the depression with it, or if the depression was already there and the grief just amplified it. Either way, yesterday was a rough mental day. Today still hurts, but it doesn’t feel like my heart is being shredded. It feels more like an ache. I still miss her, but the pain isn’t crushing me in the same way. I still don’t think life is fair. I still don’t think systems are fair, even if I un

I am trying to hold gratitude. Because I know there are many people who never get to experience being affected so profoundly by someone’s presence. They never get to meet someone who shows them what kind of love they are capable of. And I am grateful. I am. I am grateful that I get to hold memories that matter. Love that doesn’t disappear with absence or require reciprocation to remain real. I am grateful that she is part of my inner world in a way that has changed me for the

I had several dreams last night. One of them is one I used to have often. It happened a lot during the time I was working with L. In the dream, I’m running, trying to get to her office, but I can never quite make it. I get lost. There are more stairs than there should be. More turns. Hallways that don’t lead where they’re supposed to. The building keeps unfolding in ways that make arrival impossible. Sometimes I finally get there, only to realize I’m too late. She’s already g

I’ve been putting myself out there to make friends, and I think L would be really proud of me. It’s one of those moments where you want to pick up the phone and call someone to tell them about your life, but you can’t. That’s okay though. Holding the knowing that she would be proud, that she would be happy for me, is still meaningful. To be able to believe that is meaningful. I know I was kind of forced into this spot in my life. In a way. So it’s not like this was some perfe

I haven’t really had the cognitive ability to reflect and write the last couple of days. I can’t access the deep thinking like I normally can. Which has been nice, in that I don’t suffer as much emotionally when I can’t think. I’ve had grief pop up, but not for more than a minute at a time, so it’s been a lot lighter. My sleep has been a shit show the last couple of weeks. Or maybe just a week? I don’t know, hard to say. I just woke up from a nap, but I feel groggy. I have be

This is random, but aren’t all of my posts? I’m reading a book right now, Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar, and the main character, Cyrus, is relatable in ways that really touch my tender heart. In ways that make me feel seen. So far, this specific part of the book has really stayed with me because of the subtle flavor of humor and the way it touched on exactly how I feel. Also, it kind of made a good point that I had never considered before. Here is the excerpt: A year and a half ago,

Life has looked different this last month. I’ve been spending more time with friends. I like them. I enjoy being with them. And still, my mind and my heart keep drifting back to her. We decided to keep living together. There are practical reasons. Emotional reasons. History reasons. In some ways, it makes things easier. In other ways, it makes everything harder. I have to keep reminding myself that staying home just to be around her isn’t healthy for me. That even though we’r

I think I have a really activated core wound right now. The one that screams at me that I’m a horrible person. Over the last couple of years, my life has shifted in ways that feel like failings to me. Things have happened that I have trouble forgiving myself for. And I’m struggling to not let that wound eat me alive. I know punishing myself doesn’t change the past or make anything different. But it’s not so much that I’m trying to punish myself — I just genuinely feel like a

I realize how vague my last post was and I wanted to offer a little more transparency. I’m trying to walk a narrow line here. Between not making assumptions and not allowing this space to be undermined. This project matters to me. It was created to be community-oriented, authentic, and grounded in integrity. That means acting in good faith whenever possible. That’s why, when the first review came in that countered my own experience, I approved it. Because who am I to decide t

I’ve been trying to remain quiet. Humble. Dignified. But the feelings inside me have been building in the silence. This website was born because I was silenced, by fake voices. My voice was buried and removed. And now I’m watching the same pattern try to repeat itself within the very platform I built so truth and integrity could exist. I’m not sure if anyone assumed that because I approved the first review that came in, I would keep allowing it, that I would look the other wa

The last couple of hours my thoughts completely shifted. That familiar frustration crept in. How am I supposed to find myself when everything always feels different? I was spiraling around identity again. Questioning my grounding. Questioning whether I was “losing myself”. Then it hit me. Bro. Did you even eat? No. No, I did not. And suddenly the mystery unraveled. This wasn’t an existential crisis. This was hunger. 🤭 Sometimes the work isn’t soul-searching. It’s food.

Sometimes I feel like I’m on the verge of a complete mental breakdown. I don’t know if that’s the beginning of a panic attack or if it’s me just completely losing it. I feel like a balloon floating in a room, bouncing from wall to wall, from floor to ceiling. I don’t feel grounded. I don’t feel like I’m standing on anything. I feel like I’m just drifting, with no way to pull myself back in. I feel like I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I want out of life. I don’t know

Realizing I was autistic was something that took me a long time to feel okay with. It helped that the person who helped me figure it out was also autistic. That made it feel less exposing, less scary, while I was trying to understand what was going on. Still, after all of the assessments, all I really felt was embarrassment. I don’t think I engaged with the reality of being autistic at all for many months after that. And even now, I still haven’t fully. I probably won’t tell

I’m having what feels like a slip into a depressive episode. Not that life has been peachy or happy anyway, but this feels worse than it has been. Another thing that’s been weighing on me is that the more mindful I become, the more I slow down with language and interactions, the more I realize how mismatched I often am when communicating with people. How often I don’t understand what they’re trying to say, and how often I’m misunderstood in return. And it’s frustrating. It’s

I’m still struggling. And I think I might be for a long time. I know I’m not great at showing how much I love people. I’ve never been good at translating what I feel on the inside into something visible or reassuring on the outside. But that doesn’t mean the love isn’t there. The depth of it is overwhelming sometimes. And I don’t know what to do with all of the love I still have for her. I don’t know how to hold it. Today I donated plasma. Then I spent time with friends. I fo

My day was actually a pretty good day. It was filled with a lot of chatting with coworkers and a lot of laughing. The air felt light today, probably because it’s Friday and everyone is excited for the weekend. I went to donate plasma after work, and what usually takes two hours only took an hour today. Now I’m home, and the grief over the loss of my former wife is hitting me. It hurts. Before two years ago, I didn’t really feel grief. It was an emotion I knew of, but I didn’t