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…
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,…