Every city has a haunted house. Mine is all of downtown Bellingham. The bars, the alleys, the breakfast tables, the blocked contacts, the empty chairs. I got sober, changed my name, lost almost everyone I knew, and I still have to walk through all of it. Here’s what it looks like when your whole former…
3.5 years. Two hospitalizations. One note that said “Get help” on an empty bedroom door. This is the story of my estrangement from my daughters, what I had to burn down to become someone worth coming back to, and how I found my way back to them. This is not a highlight reel. This is…
I spent months grieving what I lost. Then one Tuesday the grief shifted into something I didn’t have a word for yet. Not sadness. Not anger. Bewilderment. A deep, disorienting, almost embarrassing what the actual fuck was I tolerating? I had been pouring everything into people who were treating me like a resource. Emotional support…
I woke up crying with unrelenting grief and the kind of guilt that doesn’t fade with insight or healing. Some choices can’t be undone. Some love breaks beyond repair. Dancing to Over My Head at high tide became the only honest response. No rescue. No repair. Just pressure, accountability, and the choice to live differently…