Tag: death


  • What I Found After the Furniture Was Gone

    I didn’t quit drinking and magically fix my life. I quit drinking and finally saw how overfurnished it was. Sobriety turned the lights on, and what I found was wall-to-wall clutter. Substances, work, relationships, patterns, identities, and coping strategies I had been stepping over for years. Clearing them out wasn’t graceful. It was slow, messy,…

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  • The Cockroach Doctrine

    The Cockroach Doctrine isn’t about resilience. It’s about being unkillable. This isn’t a polished recovery story or a warrior’s arc. It’s a ledger of endings—messy, brutal, deserved, accidental, and life-saving. It’s about crawling back when there’s no applause, no soundtrack, no redemption montage. About surviving in ways that don’t look noble. About relapse, rage, obsession,…

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  • I beat the shit out of things today

    Today wasn’t about fixing anything — it was about feeling everything. I went offline and spent five hours in a grief lodge, moving anger, loss, and decades of trapped emotion through my body. What started as calm chanting turned into a powerful, collective release that cracked me wide open. I screamed, cried, and finally let…

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  • “Everyone Has A Plan Until They Get Punched In The Face.”

    “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face.” For me, that punch was destabilization. Over the past year — and especially in recent months — my bipolar disorder stopped responding to insight, therapy, distance, routines, and sheer effort. Innocent moments triggered near-death levels of anxiety, sending my nervous system into overdrive while…

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  • I Was The Cost, Then The Bill Came Due

    For most of my life, I confused love with sacrifice and caretaking with connection. I believed that being useful, reliable, and endlessly patient was the price of intimacy—and I paid it without question. Over time, I lost my identity, my boundaries, and my sense of self. This piece is an honest examination of the patterns…

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  • My Zero-Return Recovery Manifesto: I Burned the Bridges on Purpose

    Zero-Return Recovery isn’t a rebrand. It’s a controlled burn. I didn’t drift away or take a break, I deleted everything, cut the cords, and walked straight into the wreckage of my own patterns. On purpose. I burned bridges to stop myself from going back to what kept hurting me. No negotiating with addiction. No romanticizing…

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  • TL:DR – Love your parts.

    This week, I finally stopped arguing with permanence. Not the things I can change—I know that dance well—but the things I can’t. Chronic conditions. Lifelong diagnoses. Bodies and brains that don’t magically “turn around” if I just try harder. In IFS terms, I hit a trailhead where perfection, fear, shame, and denial were all standing…

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  • The past three weeks have been a real fucking challenge.

    The last three weeks have kicked my ass. I’m exhausted, restless, anxious, and juggling consequences from years of medications that keep me alive while quietly wrecking my body. Akathisia, brutal side effects, diabetes, sleep apnea, and yet another possible med change—all while quitting cannabis, nicotine, caffeine, energy drinks, and everything else I used to lean…

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