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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

There are moments where everything I’ve ever done wrong replays through my mind like a film that won’t stop rolling. Every mistake, every word I let slip out of anger or fear or pain. Every time I reacted instead of responded. And when it happens, I can’t seem to catch a full breath. It’s like shame sits heavy on my chest, pressing down until it hurts to even look in the mirror. I know logically that who I am isn’t defined by those moments, that I am more than my reactions, m

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’m writing this just to give you a picture into how it can feel like whiplash inside of me a lot of the time. As intense as my feelings were just a few minutes ago, I now feel calm and like everything is going to be okay. It can definitely get exhausting getting pulled in and out of the intensity of things. When I read some of my writings back, like the one before this one, it’s hard to even recognize myself in the writing. It doesn’t feel like me. And honestly I can get a b

This last therapy experience has left me feeling ashamed of my attachment style. I don’t want to be, because I know it’s not something we get to choose, and I know I’m really trying my best to unravel all of the protective behaviors I have. But I can’t help but feel kind of grossed out by myself. I’m struggling to feel like a good person right now. And I don’t know how to believe anyone could ever really care, or be able to stick around long enough for me to learn how to unra

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

A man walked by our table while my wife and I were eating dinner tonight. He didn’t do anything wrong. Just walked by. But it hit me like a punch to the gut. All I could think about was that dream. The one that didn’t really happen, but feels like it did. I don’t know why my body reacts like this. My stomach hurts. My chest feels tight. I want to crawl out of my skin. I hate that something as small as a stranger passing can make everything inside me twist like this. I want to

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

Hey there, Did you know I actually got that greeting from you? That I found it so gentle and endearing that I adopted it for myself…for the people I want to show tenderness to. Did you know I keep plants in my house because my love for them started in your office? Because the safety I felt there made me want to recreate that feeling in my own space. I think of you when I water them. Did you know you were the first person outside of my wife who heard my story? That because of

The good news is that after an intense episode of emotions, I’m usually back to my baseline pretty quickly. The not-so-good news is that when they hit, they hit hard. I don’t know if that’s just how I process emotions or if it’s because I’m so good at ignoring them until they flood me. You’d think I’d be good at processing with how often I feel things… but baby, they’re all floods, and I’m just on a little boogie board trying to stay afloat. When my therapist (god, that still

(is this metawarness?) 🤨 I know I’m not the only person who’s probably felt this way. I know there are others out there who’ve had this same ache. But it still feels ridiculous …to grieve the thought of losing grief. It’s like, in my mind, if the grief ends, the connection ends too. And I don’t want that. I don’t want to stop caring. I don’t want to stop feeling connected. So here I am again, hiding in the bathroom until the crying stops. Trying to get through the wave witho

I don’t know how to deal with the emotions flooding me right now. The panic. The fear. The way it feels like I just want to disappear. Like I just want to stop existing for a while because it’s all too much. How am I supposed to get through therapy if this is how I feel after each time? Lost. Alone. Scared. Worried that I’ll let someone in just to be hurt again. Worried that I’ll get attached in time. Because I don’t want to. I don’t want to feel attached. I don’t want to bel

I’m just getting back from helping my wife at her work. She works at an assisted living facility, and tonight they were handing out candy to kids and making caramel apples. I usually stay home for stuff like that, but I’ve been trying to get out of the house more, so I went and helped. It was nice to see all the smiles. I met with my new therapist for the first time today, via telehealth. I was always adamant that I never wanted to do telehealth long-term, but honestly, this