Sick As Your Secrets

September 11th 2025 It has taken me years to actually even be able to write about this shit, admit it, accept it, not hide away from it.  It's likely the victim impact statement... I had to write that has triggered all of these memories.  Tiffany had played the victim so well. I couldn't be one. I believed I was the abuser, defective and worth nothing. I was so fearful she would self harm, her cries that she'd kill herself. I was blind to the manipulation that everyone around me said was so obvious. I was scared for her mental health. I put her selfishness above my own safety and stability, this was not the first time.  I was already broken when I met Tiffany, freshly divorced. Verbal, physical and sexual abuse is all I have ever known. My father, my ex-wife and now... Tiffany. With love, always came some form of pain and compromise. I have never been in a healthy, safe, relationship, so how was I to really know what that was suppose to feel like... or even look like? G...

 09/07/25  “We don't heal in isolation, but in community.” Umph. Nothing feels better than a brand new journal, the smell, the tight spine, creasing the first page, blank virgin paper, waiting for the PEN to de-flower it's innocence. Umph.  Today, my blog hit over 575,000 views! Thank you to all of you who support the love of writing, me... it's because of you, that I have hope, and purpose. YOU. ME. We aren't alone, even though most days we feel that way. There's so many people in this world, yet we all still feel so alone misunderstood. We don't know each other and you don't know ME, yet, YOU HAVE been there for me. Thank you for the time you spend reading my story. THANK you for being you.

09/02/2025 "The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing." What am I doing here? I'm not even sure anymore. Do I believe in love? I believe in kissing.... Message for you. Fight for tenderness! Care as much as I do! The world is a theater and I love the drama. I'll take my time, move as fast as I want, as long as it's my pace. Ask myself these questions. Why am I whispering when I have something important to say? Why do I add a question mark at the end of all of my sentences? Why am I apologizing every time I express my needs? Why am I hunched over why am I starving myself when I love food? Why am I hurting myself when I want to scream? Why am I waiting whining?? Why am I asking all these f******? Questions questions? Fitting in? Why am I so flawed and imperfect?  You know the truth, sometimes it does hurt.....so much. My dog can feel love. A man's best friend, it is sad. That is all she will ever know about love. M...