Recovery Through Love. No Anesthesia. No Bullshit. 🥰
Almost 8 days. Then anxiety won, Roxy showed up, and I burned one down. My body hated it. Pulse in the low 100s, miserable, high, and uncomfortable for hours. I also injured my ankle trying to walk the anxiety out beforehand. Cowboy talked me off the shame ledge and reminded me I’m doing my best.…
I spent weeks brushing off the warning signs. By Saturday night I was drunk, paranoid, isolating, and convinced my life needed to end. Bipolar had full control and I refused every single person who tried to help. It took two syringes and a really long nap to slow me down. I’m out now, stable, sober,…
The last few weeks have been some of the best of my life and some of the hardest. New partnerships, 17 mile walks, personal records, full heart. Also: a shame tornado, then a shame hurricane, then a second wave that took everything out. On my 199th day without smoking I had a lit cigarette in…
Three weeks without a cigarette. Four days without nicotine. That alone feels unreal. What’s even clearer now is why I smoked. It was never random. It was an escape from discomfort. I got hurt, and I relapsed. Over and over. Cigarettes became how I painted over boredom, stress, anxiety, even happiness. One hour at a…