So thinking further about that silent treatment trigger, how it leads back to my mother being ignored and me having to talk her down. By which I mean to try and talk her out of suicide.I don’t know how many times this happened. It might be only twice. It was more than once. Only And…

You ignore me when you’re mad, that is your MO, always has been. Complete silent treatment even when I beg.Even when I beg. My anger my be abusive, but your behaviour is cruel. And it triggers the fuck out of me. My mom’s husband would give her the silent treatments for days and she hated…

Yet again I pick up my heart from the rubble and stuff it back in my chest and move on. Sometimes I wonder how many times I can have my heart broken. How much I can grieve. Because there’s a lot of grief.

I’m not religious — at all. And I am not in any way a fan of the Alcoholics Anonymous model for personal reasons. But right now I am chanting this over and over in my head. Because it encapsulates everything I need right now. God grant me the serenityTo accept the things I cannot changeThe…

My heart hurts. I really miss you.

So the gender thing has been in my head since Elliott Page came out. In my head a lot. So I don’t feel like I was born in the wrong body. And I have never felt like I am a man. But I don’t feel entirely feminine. Or I feel feminine in a slightly masculine…

So I’m in a mood. I’m not sure what mood, but generally the song I pick to link to does say something about said mood. Although really I’m not angry like this song suggests. More like “Fuck yeah I’ll be that bitch!” It’s a cry of victory, lol. So I had sex today, in a…

Oh my god I have nothing good to say guys. I walked for 5.5 kms yesterday. That was good, but today I am full of OW. Life is settling into this new normal. You know. The one where I *don’t* text someone from the moment I wake up to the moment I go to bed.…

So it’s a quarter to three in the morning and I just had quite the thought. A couple weekends ago I took part in a Journal Jam Retreat with the ever awesome Effy Wild. At one point we were discussing the Inner Critic, or that little voice that tells us we suck, our art sucks,…

I feel like somehow I’ve hit the afternoon or autumn of my life. It’s not a bad thing. The light in the afternoon, and the light of autumn, are both a special kind of light, one that is beautiful and less jarring than that of high noon or summer. I’m starting to get comfortable here.…