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My Recovery and Healing Mainframe.
> life_of_every_party.ps1
> death_of_every_relationship.ps1> recovery.ps1> healing.ps1> love.ps1"If you could kick the person in the pants responsible for most of your trouble, you wouldn’t sit for a month."-Theodore Roosevelt
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.
I didn’t fade out. I didn’t take a break. I disappeared on purpose. I deleted everything. My websites, my social media, my personas, my performance. No announcement. No explanation. Just gone. A hard reset. It was definitly more avoidance. It was also partly intervention. I forward-deployed into a war with my own patterns, knowing full…
I didn’t fix myself—I learned how to drive my bus again. Internal Family Systems gave me a language for what was already happening inside: a system of parts, each trying to protect me the only way it knew how. Addiction, anger, fear, and chaos weren’t personal failures; they were passengers fighting for control because they…
I was diagnosed with Bipolar I in 2007, but the truth is my war with myself started long before that—shaped by childhood trauma, military exposure, toxic relationships, and years of survival-mode coping. I lost jobs, housing, stability, and nearly my sense of self. What changed wasn’t a miracle cure. It was ownership. I got sober.…
I grew up hearing “big boys don’t cry” and “shut up or I’ll give you something to cry about.” Turns out, so did a guy with two professor parents and a “Leave it to Beaver” childhood. Same message, different delivery. Same result: shame baked in so deep it ran my life for decades. Tonight I…