Tukayote Helianthus: Unkillable
RECOVERY, EMOTION, DANCE, PHOTOS, AND TUNES.
NO ANESTHESIA. NO BULLSHIT.
Tag: kratom sobriety
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A feral meditation and interpretive dance about shadow, surrender, and radical love. “Devastate Me” is a vow to keep giving my heart—no armor, no regrets—even when it breaks.
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I’m living with an open heart and solid boundaries—and it feels really damn good. This piece is about choosing joy over fear, curiosity over conformity, and ethical connection over codependency. It explores relationship anarchy, sobriety, self-trust, and the subtle art of the Irish goodbye as a way of protecting peace, staying aligned, and keeping the…
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A black-and-white photo journey through the Tacoma glass museum with a very special woman I have loved for a very long time. We are reconnected and have a wonderful relationship.
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After four years of silence, I took my body back—at night, on a downtown parkade, dancing without permission or apology. This wasn’t nostalgia. This was recovery in motion. A declaration that joy, movement, and instinct get to live here again. Free as a fucking bird.
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A 12.8-mile photo walk through Bellingham became more than a color study in orange, it became a marker of recovery. Long-distance walking helps regulate my nervous system and acts as somatic exposure therapy, keeping me engaged with the world instead of retreating from it. Thirty days ago I threw away my cannabis, and I’m about…
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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 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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“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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Grief doesn’t disappear when you ignore it, it waits. Inspired by the way buffalo run straight into storms to get through them faster, this is a story about choosing to feel instead of numbing, crying instead of avoiding, and facing loss head-on. From a small, unexpected purchase to years of buried grief finally released, this…
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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…