Brain Detours

The night ended with my wife and I, in the middle of a cane field, taking photos of the night sky. I somehow got lucky enough to capture a shooting star. Check it out. Today was just what I needed.

This whole day has been good. I don’t know if you can feel the weight of that sentence but I need you to. I need you to understand that this is rare for me. And I can just hear the therapist question: “What was different about today than the other days?” Ma’am, I don’t know. I woke up like this. I drank a peppermint bark coffee? Are you telling me I can ditch the mental health meds for peppermint bark coffee? That will solve all my problems? This whole time? lol That line, I

I started my morning with a peppermint bark coffee. Funny thing, I used to only drink iced americanos and would turn my nose up at drinks like this. Not out of coffee smugness or fragile masculinity… I just never really liked sweet coffee. But lately, I’ve made exceptions for fall and winter flavor specials. It was a good way to start the day. I had a productive morning at work where everything felt a little easier, like I wasn’t forcing myself through each task. Maybe the co

I’m tired. Emotionally and physically. I don’t have much room in me to be vulnerable about what’s going on for me internally right now. A lot of it brings intense shame and it makes me feel selfish, so I’d rather keep it as a private process. It’s probably something I should process in therapy, but I don’t know if I can even let myself speak aloud about it. Anyway, I still wanted to show up to my blog today, but I think this is as much as I can give for now. That I’m in a pla

Today feels heavy in a way that words can’t seem to carry. A family member died suddenly yesterday, and today I have to bring my late grandmother’s cat to the vet to help him pass. He’s suffering, and I know deep down that keeping him here would be selfish. But knowing that doesn’t make it easier. I keep trying to find words to make sense of it all, but every time I reach for them, it’s like my mind turns to a blank canvas…quiet, colorless, and empty. I think it’s because it’

I have my second session with my new therapist tomorrow and I have absolutely zero clue what to talk about. First sessions are usually a little easier on my nerves because they tend to be more structured and the therapist tends to ask more questions. Second sessions, though, feel like stepping into a room I don’t quite know how to fill. It’s like the structure dissolves and I’m supposed to just talk about my week. But I don’t even know where my week went. I barely remember en

If consciousness ends when we die, what happens to love? I think love keeps living, just in a different way. Each person who knew you, knew you as you showed up in the world with them. Every relationship holds a different version of you… a tone of laughter, a small act of care, a memory that belongs only to that connection. Because of that, I think the love we have while we’re alive gets spread out among the people we’ve touched. It keeps living in them, quietly woven into th

I logically think that because joy is fleeting, it’s more sacred. It feels good to have joy, and if you can really immerse yourself in that feeling, in that experience, and be present with it, you can get so much out of it before it leaves. But I think it’s a lot more complex than that simple, logical answer, especially for people who have trauma backgrounds. For instance, my body and mind make it very difficult sometimes to be fully present in joyful experiences because I’m

Sometimes I wonder if my depth only exists when I’m in pain. When I’m feeling good (like I am today) it’s more like ahhh, the breeze, the sun, the air… and that’s it. No complex thoughts. No deep dives into the meaning of the universe. No 3 a.m. research rabbit holes. Just quiet contentment. And yet, part of me wonders…what if I heal to the point where all the depth is pulled out of me? BORING. Okay, that part’s a joke. But seriously… it makes me wonder: do I truly have depth

I don’t really know how I feel today. I do know I enjoyed not having to hit the ground running this morning. We gained an hour yesterday, and by enjoyed, I mean I actually took a moment to think…wow, I’m up and not running late. Anyone who knows me knows I’m definitely not a person who’s late to anything… usually. My one exception? If you schedule something in the morning. Christian will either be exactly on time or five minutes to an hour late, depending on whether my body d

Woke up early this morning. Went to donate plasma. It’s helped me cue in—at least intellectually—to some of my body’s patterns. Like how when I feel mentally stable like this, my heart rate is always high. Resting somewhere between 100–114. Odd. Anyway, halfway through the donation, my nightmare from last night hit me. I’ll be honest: I’ve had nightmares my whole life, but this was by far the most violating one I’ve ever experienced. I’m not really sure how to feel about it.

Today has been really good. My brain has been quiet. When that happens, I try to do a few things…really soak it in, and remind myself that the bad days aren’t my fault. Because I know when those days come, they’ll feel like my fault. Saying it to myself now, when things feel still, helps me remember later when the noise returns. I got more housework done than I expected, and afterward, I had one of the best naps of my life. Now my wife is napping, and I snuck off to the store

Morning folks, Today’s a good mental health day. Woke up earlier than usual to head to work. We had a 5K event for St. Jude, and my main job was to make sure parking stayed structured so 18-wheelers could still pass through. The volunteers did an amazing job keeping things organized. After that, I headed home, got some housework done, and now I’m sitting here thinking about what I want to do next. Lately, I’ve been daydreaming about Scotland. A bunch of videos have been showi

Sometimes I get really disoriented and feel like I don’t know who I am. That’s how I’m feeling right now. I’m probably going to take some medicine. I’m starting to piece together that it might just be part of how I experience panic attacks. My thoughts start to race so much that I don’t know which direction to think in. I get so many contradicting thoughts at once that it makes my head spin. Then I start asking myself, what’s your real thought? Who are you really? But it’s no

I want to be transparent about the anger I feel and the emotions that come with it. But I also don’t want to step outside of my values in the process. Sometimes when I’m mad, I catch myself saying things that are shaped by my pain…things that reflect how someone feels to me in this moment, not necessarily who they are as a whole person. My perspective might be real, but it’s still just that — a perspective. I don’t like shit-talking. I don’t like bending someone’s image. I kn

Some nights, I get caught in my head about all the things I’ve done wrong in my life. The moments I wish I could take back. The ways I’ve reacted that didn’t feel like me, or at least, not the version of me I want to be. The words that landed wrong, the looks that hurt someone’s feelings, the tone that carried more sharpness than care. When I think about those moments, it’s hard not to feel like a bad person. There’s a weight that comes with shame, whispering reminders of eve

Watching the community come together when our government has failed them and still finding a way to make sure people are fed has filled my heart with so much warmth. There’s something about seeing people show up for each other that just gets to me. It’s a kind of care that reminds me of what we’re capable of when compassion leads the way. My heart still hurts for the people impacted, though. Even with all the help being offered, I know the stress of it all doesn’t just disapp

Okay folks, last night was a fucking winner. I slept. I fuckingggggg slept. You ever wake up and feel like the world just cracked open and let some sunlight back in? That’s me today. I wish I could bottle this energy and let you feel it. The way the fresh air whipped through my car windows on the drive to work, the way it felt alive again instead of heavy. Sure, I still needed coffee (let’s be honest, that’ll never change), but damn…what a difference a full night of rest make

I never thought I’d want to move away from the place I was born and raised, but the older I get, the more I crave quiet. A place where queerness isn’t hidden, just lived. I want to find a small, soft community to settle into. Where we plant flowers together and read books, drink coffee and tea as the sun rises, and sip hot chocolate while watching fireflies dance through the evening air. Where laughter is abundant, poetry is shared freely, and the bonds between us stretch dee

Have you ever been so sleep deprived that you’re in a perpetual state of sweat? That’s where I am. You would think being exhausted both physically and mentally would let me sleep through the night. But no. The universe insists that I be up… and I don’t know why. If something catastrophic happens, all I’m going to do is stare into the abyss while it happens. I can’t tell you the number of times something that requires action happens and I’m left frozen in place while my wife i