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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

I don’t want to show up tomorrow. And I do. It feels like each part of me is gripping the valves on opposite sides of my heart, pulling until something gives. Another part just wants to take a spear and drive it through the center so the pain stops—metaphorically, of course. There’s so much chaos inside me right now that I can’t tell what I feel anymore. All I know is that therapy doesn’t feel like a place of healing right now, and that terrifies me. So I guess scared is the

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

I thought about deleting my last few posts. The ones written in the thick of emotion. Most of my writing happens there, in that space where feelings are sharp and words come fast. Anger, for me, feels shameful. It always has. Feeling it makes me question whether I’m a good person. I’ve told myself that good people don’t get angry, don’t let it spill out. But I think I’m going to try something different.I’m letting those posts live here. Maybe if I keep them, I can learn that

I honestly don’t like this part of me. The part that gets angry. That lets myself feel affected by another person. I catch myself asking … did you really think you deserved better? That’s laughable. But the truth is, I do want better, not just for me, but for all queer people. For all marginalized communities. Because I think more harm comes from the ones who claim allyship without fulfilling that label than from the ones who are openly against it. At least with them, you kno

When you sit down across from a therapist and they ask, “How’s your week been?” or even, “How’s your day been?” The load of that question. I thought of this while standing at my washing machine, watching towels spin. I started to have a panic attack… brief, but sharp…and I realized how impossible it is to form a sentence that paints the full picture. Even if I could, the feeling would be gone by the time I found the words. I’m trying to mentally prepare myself for Thursday. T

I came across a reel that asked: Would you date you? For those who just want the short version, the answer is no … I wouldn’t. For those who want the deeper look, get cozy and keep reading. I have some good qualities in me, but none of them are consistent. So any good quality I have gets watered down by the simple fact that I never know when I’ll actually be showing up as that version of myself. This isn’t a self-deprecating post. It’s a realistic one. On my good days, I thin

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

You ever want someone’s presence so badly that all you can do is cry? The kind of crying that makes your heart hurt so much it feels like your body can’t hold it. The kind where you try to breathe through it, but each breath comes out jagged …..like you’re popping up for air after a 100-foot free dive. That’s what attachment feels like for me. But I read somewhere that attachment isn’t love connection is. And that made me pause. Because the truth is, I think I hold both when

I was able to pass out when I got home from work, so at least I’ll have an hour of sleep in me. I’m struggling with feeling… I’m not sure what, but whatever it is, it’s a deep ache. It sits heavy, even when I can’t quite name it. Despite the weight of the day, I made a point to track the things that brought me small moments of joy. The pieces that helped me feel even a little bit lighter. Things that made me smile or laugh today: A Pisces Instagram account calling me (and eve

You know, mental health is a tricky thing. One minute I’m completely worn down, exhausted, like I’m walking a tightrope and hanging by a thread at the same time. Every sound, every thought, feels like too much. So, I do what I need to do to make it through the day. Today that meant taking a Klonopin before facing people. I don’t love needing it, but I also know pretending I don’t, helps no one. Not me, not the people I have to talk to. And once it kicked in… I felt lighter. D

Blink He’s here Blink He’s gone Blink Blink Blink The world has shifted His view has changed He can no longer see the same Blinking Shifting Not knowing your own memory Blinking Turning My heart is burning Burning trying to get through the day Burning trying to find a new way To remember To start To not tear things apart To know this perspective is here but know a new one is near What will stay? What will go away? How do I stay connected to me? How do I keep remembering how t

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

I hate the arbitration of rules that aren’t solely arbitrary. I struggle with the grief that fills the back of my throat and makes it sting. Tears welling up in my eyes as I try to find the words to put to the feelings swelling inside of me. I can feel the cool tears sliding down my cheek and dropping onto my shirt. Missing you comes with shame, shame for the way I feel, shame for the way I still hurt this far from saying goodbye. There’s something beautiful about loving beyo

Sometimes I shift. Today the most open I can be is to say I can’t be open. Something in me won’t let me. Maybe I’ll be back tomorrow.

I feel like the universe knew I was going to need those AirPods bad today. I’ve been having a hard time with overstimulation this week and was right on the verge of a meltdown earlier. I had to leave the house, sit in a parking lot for a good minute, and just breathe. When I finally went into the store to grab a few things, every noise hit me at once: footsteps, sighs, the hum of the air conditioner, even the lights. It all felt like too much. So I put on some brown noise and

Awhile back I couldn’t find my left AirPod. One thing about me is that my headphones are like a lifeline. They’re how I move through the world on days where existing feels heavier. They give me a bit of cushion from the noise, a way to keep going even when I’m just at home. When I couldn’t find it, I ordered a cheap twenty-dollar pair to hold me over. I really hoped the brand wouldn’t matter. Wrong. Turns out, I can’t deviate from the AirPod. Anyway, the mystery was solved wh

The grief sits in my chest, heavy and unrelenting, pressing up into my throat until it’s hard to breathe without crying. My whole body tenses under the weight of it. Every muscle feels alert, like I’m bracing for something I can’t stop from coming. I can feel the tears there, begging to be released, but I can’t let them out unless I’m completely alone. And yet, I don’t move. I don’t create the space to be alone enough to let them fall. I just sit in the ache, held captive bet

I meet with someone new next week. And I already know they’ll probably ask me to sign a release of information. It’s a pretty standard thing, just so therapists can talk, share updates, and help with continuity of care. I get it. But it’s something I’ve always struggled with. When I think about that phone call, it’s not the idea of being misrepresented that scares me. It’s the fear that someone I still love might not carry me in good light anymore. That what I thought they th