The Emergency Department of the Soul
The only reason I "broke" now is because the storm is over, and the stones have been discovered. My nervous system finally realize...
August 2026
Visiting Hours — Surviving the Narrative, Not the Addiction
I was losing myself, and had for a long time, in a slow but unnerving creeping way. Things I tried to hold on to had been falling out betwee...
A Bridge That Doesn't Join — Grandparents Running Out of Time
My mum is disappearing slowly, in the particular way dementia disappears a person — not all at once, but in pieces, some days more of her he...
My Own Flying Monkey — Understanding C-PTSD and the Inner Critic
It has been a wild journey of suffering and confusion. Not knowing how to handle my own life, ending up relying on self-medication with toda...
A Pile of Straws, A Search for Light
I have seen the depth, and I have felt its cold, clammy grasp—the pulling force that keeps me down. Words are a straw amongst many, a way to...
The Flying Monkeys — Recognizing Them
See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. I was young, proud, strong and full of life. I was charged with the power of life. I had the world...
