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My Recovery and Healing Mainframe.
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"If you could kick the person in the pants responsible for most of your trouble, you wouldn’t sit for a month."-Theodore Roosevelt
Tag: grief
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A quiet moment on the beach turns into a reckoning with grief, not just for people lost, but for the version of myself that disappeared with sobriety. This is about mourning an old identity, honoring what it gave me, and choosing a truer life without pretending the grief ever fully ends.
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I was handed addiction, trauma, and loss before I ever had a choice, and I’ve spent my life cleaning up wreckage I didn’t create. This is a reflection on sobriety, accountability, grief, and the brutal resilience required to keep choosing yourself after everything falls apart. I’m still here. Still standing. Still moving forward, one honest…
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Took a 2400 mile solo road trip to Northern California. Worked my way up the Pacific Coast from San Francisco to the Oregon border. Cried a lot. Walked 150 miles. Went to the psych ward for two days. Kissed a beautiful stranger at midnight on New Year’s Eve. Took a couple selfies. A challenging and…
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Today, I hit a trailhead I couldn’t ignore: my fear of uncertainty. In IFS, it showed up as a very young part—quiet, tense, always bracing—using denial as protection. I’ve spent years fighting diagnoses, circumstances, and history, thinking resistance was strength. It isn’t. Acceptance doesn’t mean approval or giving up; it means stopping the exhausting war…
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A Christmas letter to my estranged daughters. This year cracked me open in the best possible way — therapy, bipolar treatment, transformation. I’m not the same person I was. I’m not asking them to forget the past. I’m asking for a future where we get to find out who we’ve all become. I miss them…