grief – zen BLITZ

The People Who Shape Us Never Truly Leave

On heartbreak, lemons, and the people who leave fingerprints on who you become.

“Life is a balance of holding on and letting go.” – Rumi

Why I’m Writing This

I know I mention him occasionally, but I haven’t written a post about the “very smart guy I once knew & will always adore” in a while. And he’s been on my mind a bit lately so I figured fuck it, eh?

(Yes I’m procrastinating on the series I’ve been working through, how did you know?!? 😆)

The Gas Station

For those who haven’t picked up on any backstory, here’s a bit of it…

He came into the gas station I worked at one day, & we instantly connected. It wasn’t just a physical attraction… It felt like we’d known each other for decades instead of moments. Like, bizarre, but beautiful.

On & off for a few years, we grew really close. Like, best friends who kinda wanted to make out but never had a proper opportunity to. We’d vent to each other, hug for longer than friends “should”, and support each other emotionally as much as we possibly could. We both valued each other’s perspectives & opinions, and each other’s company.

But he was, in his own words, “moody”. He also, in his own words, had the tendency to distance himself when he wasn’t feeling quite right (who doesn’t, eh?) And so one day we got into an argument that I still don’t understand, and he stopped talking to me. Inevitably, I’m quite sure I said something stupid or unclear which freaked him out, which freaked me out, which perpetuated the freaking out until he walked away. Cuz…humans. I’ll probably never know why he wasn’t willing to work it out once our emotions cooled & we’d gotten some perspective on the whole thing, which sucks beyond words. But it is what it is. We both carried on with our lives just fine.

No Villains Here

He broke my heart. Worse than anyone ever has. But he’s certainly not the villain of the story. Neither of us are.

The good far outweighed the bad (in my eyes at least). Which certainly doesn’t make either of us a hero either. Just uniquely beautiful humans.

We were both dealing with a lot in our own personal lives back then – neither of us were in the best mindset.

The timing just wasn’t right, I suppose.

Side note : I’m really struggling with this post, to be honest… The magnitude of our friendship can’t really be put into words. Nor the heartbreak I felt. I’m trying though, without getting too poetic about it 😅

The Receipts of Loving Him

This isn’t really just a post about some super awesome dude who I’m grateful to have loved – It’s to prove the case that you can always gain something, even when you lose something.

There was a lot of love there. A LOT. Mutual respect, trust, adoration…you name it. He meant a lot to me. And he still does. In a lot of ways, he helped shape the woman I grew into since knowing him.

I learned a lot from him. Here’s just a few notable ideas…

Grief is cyclical. I know this because of my mom, but because of him too. I’ll forget about his existence for a period of time, & then he suddenly pops into my mind. The trail never completely grows over, but I learn a little more every time I choose walk it.

Be yourself, fuck all. He carried himself & spoke with such confidence & often flawless articulation, and I admired the shit out of that at the time – I was in my 20’s & absolutely riddled with anxiety despite my extremely social career choice. I don’t think he felt that way about himself, but it inspired the fuck out of me.

Growth never ends. He challenged my perspectives at times, & always pushed me gently to be a little better. I’ve always been one to welcome a worthwhile challenge.

You never know who you’ll connect with if you stay open to the possibilities. I’ve met a lot of people in my life, especially in the jobs I’ve had, and I’ve gotten to know & love a little bit of a lot of them. But I always kept them at some distance, because of my “shadows”. He did too. But when life was throwing lemons in his face, he turned to me, and I was happy to try to help him make some lemonade.

Resilience. Bushels of lemons got thrown at him in pretty quick succession, & he was really having a hard time with it. It’s exhausting; I know. He rode the waves with as much grace as anyone possibly could, & I admired the shit out of that. He never gave up, never gave in, never fully lost himself in the process. And neither will I.

When you believe in someone, they can accomplish beautiful things. I felt like he believed that I was more capable than I felt I was with a lot of things…which helped me learn how to believe in myself. And that led me to accomplish some of the more important things in my life, such as working in the ER.

Money ain’t shit – It’s never worth it to work a job you hate. He hated his job. He worked in law enforcement, so I don’t blame him. He said he got into it “because he knew he could”; I thought “I could’ve been a prostitute, but that doesn’t mean I should.” 😆 Money flows like water – here one day & gone the next, back again a year later. Such is life. It’s not worth it to waste your precious time on this planet loathing everything for 40 hours a week – don’t do things that suck the vitality straight outta your soul.

And love. I honestly felt like he was my second ”true love” in life, & my first one as an adult. Even though we never dated. So here’s some things I learned on that note, in no particular order…

There can be a tremendously enriching essence of genuine love in every dynamic of relationship, if you live passionately and with curiosity.
When you love someone, you don’t turn your back on them, especially if things are rough, & even if you’re hurt. I’d told him more than once that I’ll always be here, & as long as I’m on the right side of the dirt, I always will.
Love requires sight of & acceptance of both the light & dark in another. No reason to hide – those who matter don’t mind, and those who mind don’t matter.
Once you truly love someone, you never fully stop loving them. Ever. Is that a foolish perspective? I don’t think so. When I grow to truly love someone, there are reasons. Good fucking reasons. Short of abuse, there’s no reason for those reasons to become invalid.
If an overthinker says they love you, believe them – they’ve thought of every reason not to. Amen.

Love Changes Shape

The people we love, friends or family or some inspiring stranger with a guitar, can become part of our inner landscape. Even when they’re gone, their influence doesn’t disappear – it changes form. It becomes a part of the way we think, create, encourage others, and navigate our own lives.

All that I gained from knowing him while I did passes on through how I interact with & support the other people in my life. That friendship wasn’t for nothing – in a lot of ways, it saved me.

“even grief has honey in its mouth … have I loved it completely while it was here? … worship the miracle that it happened at all” – Christopher Sexton

I’ll challenge you with how he challenged me (because it’s definitely worthwhile) : take care of yourself, help others, live well, & stay weird. 🖤🪷

Some people aren’t meant to stay forever.

Maybe they’re meant to become part of the foundation you build the rest of your life on.

If you’ve ever had someone who changed you long after they left, I’d love to hear about them in the comments.

What gift did they leave behind?

I’m not kidding, drop them in the comments. I read every one.

Stay real. Live vibrantly. And rock the fuck on. 💚🤘🏻

How We Cope (And Sometimes Make It Worse)

zen

On maladaptive daydreaming, emotional avoidance, overstimulation, and modern survival.

Most people aren’t afraid of being alone.

Or bored.

They’re afraid of what shows up when things get quiet.

All kinds of shit can come to the surface – unresolved emotions, grief, shame, unmet needs, existential discomfort.

Let’s talk about coping.

The good, bad, & ugly.

Escape Routes (And Why We Need Them)

Ideally, you could design a life you don’t feel the need to escape from.

But even then…we sometimes still need to escape our own minds.

People don’t escape because they’re lazy or weak.

They escape because something inside them feels unbearable, empty, overstimulated, or unresolved.

There are so many routes, especially in our current climate :

doomscrolling
binge watching mindless bullshit
maladaptive daydreaming
constant stimulation
porn
alcohol
gaming
obsessive crushes
fantasy lives
shopping
productivity obsession

Some things are even viewed as socially acceptable on the surface :

“functional” escapism
overworking
endless podcasts/videos
compulsive self-help
obsessive planning
internet rabbit holes

None of these things are inherently bad, in moderation. Some even seem productive.

Distraction can be emotional anesthesia. And modern life offers infinite ways to stay distracted.

Everyone has a vice.

Some coping mechanisms soothe us. Others consume us.

Fantasy as Survival

There’s a difference between adaptive & maladaptive daydreaming, & there’s nothing wrong with daydreaming in general.

Adaptive daydreaming can reinforce creativity, inspire you to follow your dreams, help you develop character traits you admire, or help you escape the mundane or unpleasantness of your reality.

It can be used to replay scenarios, imagine what a relationship with someone would be like, ruminate on positive experiences, or imagine future scenarios.

It can be used to manage emotions such as loneliness, unmet needs, grief, boredom, & restlessness because it can provide a sense of control, stimulation, comfort, emotional intensity, or meaning.

Maladaptive daydreaming is when someone gets mentally stuck in that fantasy state. It can be addictive.

The first time I’d heard anyone mention “maladaptive daydreaming” randomly was in a YouTube video I watched about a year ago, by Alwyn Oak (she starts talking about it about 15 minutes into the video, if you’re interested : **Sharing my biggest secret.. & Healing the Inner Child 💚)**

The whole idea of it reminds me of what I read in “The Red Book” by Carl Jung – Toward the end of the book, it definitely seemed that he’d taken his personal experiments beyond the psychological philosophies of the archetypes & the collective unconscious to a more “maladaptive” mental state.

I could be wrong though, & I’m not judging.

Because I do this. This is my biggest “escape route”, personally.

I started doing it when I was a kid – I didn’t have any siblings, so I’d do what most kids do & entertain myself with my imagination. I had numerous scenarios, environments, & characters to play with.

It became a bit maladaptive when I was a pre-teen – My classmates were less than friendly, & my anxiety got so bad that I preferred to stay in my own little world as much as possible.

I grew out of it, for the most part. But I definitely do still drift into it for various reasons – mostly boredom or self soothing during times of chaos. Sometimes to remind myself of who the fuck I am, sometimes for the sake of developing insights into my life.

Dopamine, Numbing & Nervous System Junk Food

I’ve never had a chemical addiction outside of nicotine, so I can’t personally speak to the intense struggles involved, & I wouldn’t dare try.

In reality, you can be addicted to anything.

My high school sweetheart explained to me that he considered himself an addict by nature, saying that he’d immerse himself in anything that would distract him – that could be “alcohol, drugs, sex, attention, politics, activism…”

Anything that hits those dopamine receptors just right can become addictive.

Sometimes, the brain just wants relief. It’s like junk food for the nervous system.

But that temporary soothing can lead to loops – the high wears off & you’re left feeling lost, seeking the next hit of dopamine.

Addictions, chronic avoidance, emotional dependence on fantasy or distraction, rage addiction, internet outrage, parasocial attachment…..

Sometimes we don’t even numb with pleasure – we numb with self-improvement. Constant optimization can become another way to avoid ourselves.

Some coping mechanisms slowly become identities or prisons.

Stopping Long Enough to See What’s Chasing You

Some coping mechanisms protect us.

Some slowly disconnect us from ourselves.

The point isn’t to shame yourself for surviving however you had to survive.

The point is awareness.

Because once you notice the pattern, you get to decide whether it still belongs in your life.

What’s your biggest escape route? Tell me in the comments if you’d like. 💚

If this resonated, share it with someone who needs it. Subscribe for more real talk on grief, creativity, and building a life that doesn’t require constant escape.

Stay real. Live vibrantly. And rock the fuck on. 💚🤘🏻

No Such Thing as Resolved Grief

zen

Why Grief Doesn’t End (And What That Actually Means)

The Part That Doesn’t Stay Gone

You’re fine for a while. Sometimes, for years.

You hadn’t thought about the thing at all. Or, if you have, you’ve viewed it with the wisdom only time can serve.

You thought you were “over it” – Time heals all wounds…right?

Then it sneaks up and kicks your knees out…

The Way Grief Really Moves

Grief isn’t linear – it’s cyclical.

You never really “get over it”.

It comes in waves throughout your life.

It doesn’t always make sense, but sometimes it does…

Times of stress can set your mind into a whirlwind.

Even if you can rationally understand what’s going on, often it just doesn’t make sense emotionally.

It never seems to fully end.

Maybe the problem isn’t that you haven’t resolved it…

maybe grief isn’t something that fully resolves.

You’re Grieving More Than You Realize

I took a class called “Loss, Grief, & Coping” a million years ago because I wanted to evaluate my own process after my mom passed away – I wanted to know if I “grieved appropriately” with as little support as I had.

I learned a lot.

One major realization was that grief doesn’t come just from someone you love dying…

It comes from a sense of loss in general.

That can mean losing a job or a home, a relationship or even a friendship ending, people walking out of your life without closure, losing versions of yourself, or even missed opportunities.

Lately I’m realizing I can even grieve things that never got the chance to happen.

And it sucks just as much.

When It Doesn’t Fade

Sometimes that loss, and the grief that follows, can create trauma.

Though, of course, sometimes trauma can create grief.

Trauma is, simply put, an event that overwhelmed you when it happened.

For me, it’s been caused by sudden loss, abandonment, & emotional intensity with no closure.

It created a sense of loss in itself – of safety, or innocence, or stability.

It creates internal shifts, not just haunting memories…

Where This Hit Me

The past year or so, I’ve been dealing with a lot of things from my past jumping out of the closets I’d stuffed them in.

It started when I was randomly reminded of an old friend… and somehow that turned into memories of when my mom died.

And then it just didn’t stop.

It just kept going – pulling up other losses, other moments, other people.

Things I hadn’t thought about in years.

And somewhere in the middle of that, this thought started to settle in:

everyone leaves me.

Not always in the same way.

Not always all at once.

But eventually… they’re gone.

And most of the time, there’s no real resolution.

I remember thinking “What the fuck is going on – Why is all of this coming on right now?!?”

And the only answer I could land on was this:

I was still grieving.

Not just one thing.

A lot of things.

And the weirdest part is… it doesn’t feel like it has much to do with now.

It feels older than that.

Like I’m not just reacting to what’s in front of me…

I’m reacting to everything that never got finished.

Like I’m trying to comfort past versions of myself that never really got the closure I needed.

But…why now?!?

There’s a Reason It Keeps Returning

For me, it was spurred by stress.

And our brains tend to follow pathways they’ve learned naturally in the past, for the sake of preparing for or avoiding shitty situations.

It’s not weakness, or regression, or failure.

It’s a survival mechanism.

A painful one, but…

The Truth We Avoid

Some things don’t get tied up neatly.

There’s no perfect closure. No clean ending. No moment where you can say, “ok, moving on now.”

And that’s a bitch to accept.

Because we’re taught that healing means resolution.

That if you do the work, feel your feelings, give it enough time… eventually it will stop hurting.

But a lot of things don’t work like that.

Some things stay.

Not as sharp. Not as constant.

But still there.

You don’t get over it.

You learn to live with it.

And not just once – but over and over again, in different ways, at different stages of your life.

It doesn’t necessarily get easier, but it does change.

It evolves with you.

And somewhere in that process, it starts to shape you.

The way you see people.

The way you love.

The way you hold onto things that matter.

Maybe even the way you create.

Not because it was “worth it.” Not because it needed to happen.

But because it became part of you.

And you learned how to carry it differently.

Some things don’t leave you empty.

They leave something behind.

Not closure, but pieces of what mattered.

And sometimes, that’s what you carry forward.

So maybe healing isn’t about finishing it at all.

Maybe the healing never quite ends.

And Then There’s This…

What about when nothing is actively wrong, and the past is quietly relaxing in the background, but…something still feels off.

When you’re still feeling restless, on edge, or empty…

we’ll get to that next week. 💚

It’s not random. And it’s not just you.

There’s a reason it still lives in you.

If this hit something you don’t usually talk about… share it with someone who might need it too.

Or just sit with it for a while.

Either way, you’re not the only one carrying this.

Stay real. Stay loud. And rock the fuck on. 💚🤘🏻

The Family Curse: Growing Up in the Shadow of ALS

Where I'm At

Yeah, so…I’m still fucking sick. Recovering, but much slower than I’d like. Lame. Please bear with my foggy brained rambling 😆💚

I decided to scrap my last “love” post for February. Cuz, well…I’m just not interested in it anymore!

This month (ironically), I’m planning a few “health” related posts.

Not at all like “how to be healthy” posts.

More like…this is some shit I’m dealing with, or have dealt with in the past, posts.

It’s been in my neverending collection of stuff I wanna post about eventually, so…here we go! 😉

*“Holding Hope”* – Image created with Gemini

Some families pass down heirlooms.

Some pass down traditions.

Mine passed down ALS.

And if the pattern in my family holds, there’s a chance the story isn’t finished with me.

The Family Curse

A few months back, I wrote a little bit about my teenage experience as a caregiver for my mother after her ALS diagnosis, & the personal fallout after she’d passed away (ALS, Grief, and Growing Up Too Fast: What October Means to Me).

For those who don’t know, ALS runs heavily in my mother’s family. To the point where our genes are sought for study. It’s pretty scary.

Let me map out some of what little I actually know :

It comes from my mom’s dad’s family, traceable back as far as the late 1800’s when it was referred to as “creeping paralysis”.
My mom was the oldest of four girls, the middle two were twins : The youngest doesn’t carry the gene; the other three passed away, all from ALS, at around the ages of 35, 45, & 55.
The three sisters had a total of six kids between them, myself included. Out of those six, three have already passed away from ALS, most recently about two years ago now. I haven’t been tested for the gene, but my remaining cousins were & they do carry it.
Here’s two of many stories about about a couple of my cousins :
- Dying Mom Leaves Legacy of Wisdom
- New York Bill Named for Beloved Coach Seeks to End Genetic Insurance Discrimination

Existential Crisis

My odds probably aren’t great. But as long as I don’t get tested, there’s still a strange kind of hope in the uncertainty.

However, one of those remaining cousins was recently diagnosed with ALS. She’s only a couple years older than me, so…cue the amplified existential crisis.

I’m tired of being so rudely reminded of my mortality, as I’m sure were all of my ancestors before me.

I’m tired of all this grief, and fear.

That possible genetic time bomb has been ticking a little too loudly in my ear lately…

And I resent the fact that my family isn’t as close as it should be. It’s always been kind of sickening to me, because we all know that’s not the way it should be.

Shitty Instincts

For some reason, hearing this news makes me want to reach out to my old friend even more. (If you’ve been around a while, you’ve heard me mention him. And you may have heard me mention that I’ve tried reaching out to him, to no avail.)

Why.

Because I don’t wanna go out without resolution. Such unresolved tension. Especially since there’s no good reason for it in the first place.

And because I want his support; because sometimes he could be the most enlightening perspective in my life.

He was around when I first started learning more about the tragedy surrounding this gene, and he said to me one day, “seems you already count yourself among the dead”. Which wasn’t any more true then than it is now…

No One Makes It Out Alive

I don’t consider myself among the dead.

I consider myself among the cursed.

Cursed with immense loss & fear ingrained in my genetic code.

Cursed with being faced with the harshest of realities, such as the fact that no one’s there when all is done – ”In the end, you’re measured by how you treat the people closest to you“ – Ryan Holiday.

Cursed with shitty genes & a constant reminder of how short life can be.

But also immensely blessed with a sense of urgency that most people don’t realize until it’s too late. If they even get the chance.

All I can do is love my family, keep trying to live vibrantly, and keep trying to help others.

“Life is long, if you know how to use it” – Seneca

Celebrate life. Honor your ancestors.

If ALS has touched your family too, you already know the strange mix of grief, fear, and urgency that comes with it.

If you’re able, consider supporting ALS research – or simply reach out to someone you love today. None of us are promised tomorrow.

Click here to learn more about ALS or to donate toward finding a cure 👉 ALS Association

Stay real. Stay loud. And rock the fuck on. 💚🤘🏻

I’ll Never Fucking Know

zen

Sometimes grief doesn’t come from death — it comes from silence. From a friendship that once burned bright and then vanished without explanation. This poem spilled out of me in still trying to process the loss of someone who once felt like home. It’s messy, raw, and probably imperfect… but so was our bond.

“I’ll Never Fucking Know”

What the fuck happened?

Seems I’ll never understand.

Like a whirlwind of emotions;

your sleight of hand.

Mutual love, compassion,

freedom of our fucking souls.

Someone to lean on in a storm—

bestie goals.

Is it really worth it,

to be so mad?

Is it really worth it,

to throw away what we had?

Your silence is deafening;

none of this makes sense.

We could’ve figured it out

with a bond that intense.

What could be, would be, should be,

before it’s too late.

This animosity wasn’t written

to be our fate.

But nothing’s changed;

what more can I do?

Just keep on keepin’ on,

without you.

I’ll stitch up my heart,

just like before.

Burn bright in your darkness—

I’ll always love you more.

What the fuck happened?

Where’s your vibrant fucking glow?

Your stubbornness knows no bounds.

Guess I’ll never fucking know.

Losing someone you love — whether a friend, a partner, or a soulmate of any kind — can feel like a death without a funeral. Writing this helped me grieve, rage, and remember.

Fuck it — grief is messy, love is messy, friendship is messy. But maybe we don’t have to process it alone. Drop a thought, a rant, or a poem of your own in the comments. Let’s build a little corner of honesty together.

Rock on!

PS — What sparked this?

For a few years, my family was caught in chaos, and I was the one holding it all together. That kind of weight leaves you drained in ways you don’t even notice until later.

I think that’s why memories of this friend hit me so hard when they resurfaced – We once leaned on each other & lit each other up when we had nothing left.

I tried reaching out — not out of selfishness, but out of hope. Hope that maybe we could move forward, even just as friends. But silence was my answer.

So I’m left with this strange space: not fully grieving, not fully heartbroken, just carrying a fire I once borrowed from him. A fire I’ll keep tending, in the life I’ve built.

Grief, Love, and Loud Music: Why I’m Chasing a Ghost at a Rock Show

Where I'm At

I feel the need to revisit a topic I wrote about a couple months ago, because I’ve since had a lot of thoughts floating around my head.

I wrote then about my friend who felt that he was in love with me; and as much as I absolutely loved the shit out of him, I never wanted more than a friendship.

We haven’t seen or talked to each other in over a decade.

But he’s been on my mind quite a bit lately. To the point where I’m going alone to a concert he’ll probably be at (if he even still lives around here) – not just to see if I can pull anything from the ashes, but also so I can get the fuck away from screaming children & feel like a human for a few hours LOL. (I’m literally trying to write this right now with screaming children running around because I haven’t had time to work on anything. I can practically feel the smoke coming out of my ears.)

The Past

Over the last couple months, a ton of old memories have been flooding back. And there was a lot of love there. Like, a LOT. I never even realized a lot of the things I do now because I was so young (in my 20’s), and always so scared of losing him.

I always worried so much about him cuz he was always dealing with so much stress, and I wanted to be there for him as much as I possibly could. I still do.

He had such an adorable smile, and he gave great hugs. I loved talking to him because he was so different from me, yet still so similar. He was encouraging, flattering, and really really sweet. Not to mention resilient as fuck, and I admired the hell out of that. He’s always been one of my absolute favorite people I’ve ever known.

He was also pretty brutal at times. (Though, isn’t everyone?) I loved him too much for that to scare me off…until he blatantly told me to fuck off. So…that sucked.

The Present

I’ve moved on with my life. I hardly thought about him for a long time – Just fleeting thoughts, wondering how he’s doing, wishing he were around to share bits of my life with. Overall, I was too busy living.

I don’t know what sparked him back in my mind. I really don’t.

I’ve noticed that grief works in cycles, at least for me. Part of me thinks this might just be my brain still grieving the relationship we had. Especially since I never fully understood why we don’t still have that.

Little random things keep happening too, that remind me of him. Which makes me wonder if the universe is trying to tell me something. Which might be silly. But it also might not.

The Future

So, I’m going to see Reverend Horton Heat. He introduced me to them a million years ago, and they’ve since become my favorite driving tunes.

I won’t get my hopes up about him being there. But they kinda are, I’m not gonna lie. lol

I won’t get my hopes up about him being happy to see me. But I don’t really care (not gonna lie). If he’s not, I’ll still enjoy the show. And a couple beers. And no screaming children.

I just don’t want to waste any more time. I hate wasting time, cuz tomorrow is never promised and the “ALS gene time bomb” ticks louder in my ear every year.

If there’s ever anything I can do about anything, I always want to do it now.

And it’s so hard to connect with people these days, especially since COVID – I’d rather hold onto those I know I love, while I can.

Life’s too damn short to wonder what if forever.

If you’ve got someone on your mind lately — a friend, a flame, or even a ghost — maybe this is your nudge to reach out.

✨ Drop a comment if you’ve ever chased closure, connection, or just needed a night to feel alive again. I’m listening.

And hey, wish me luck. Either way. 🍻

Real Talk: How to Function When Life Super Sucks

Uncategorized

Let’s Get Real : When Happiness Feels Like a Scam

It seems like everyone’s always chasing happiness, as though it’s the ultimate goal of life. Romanticizing happiness like that, however, can really just set us up for failure, especially when we feel like we’re just struggling to survive.

Here’s a little truth bomb for thought, from Mark Manson – “Comfort with your core misery is a form of happiness.” I suppose accepting, understanding, and approaching with compassion your underlying (angst, sadness, or whatever) is the key to freedom from its control.

Even Stoic philosopher king Marcus Aurelius was dealt a super shitty hand throughout his life, yet he showed up for it. Every. Damn. Day.

How to Deal When It All Feels Pointless

“We continue to rise because it’s the only way forward.” – Ryan Holiday

Start with the basics (especially if you’re at rock bottom) :

Eat something that didn’t come out of a crinkly wrapper. Your mind, just like your body, needs actual nutrients to feel good.
Move your ass, even if it’s just a casual stroll.
Sleep, hydrate, repeat.

2. Don’t numb out. You’ll only cause yourself more problems.

No drugs. No binges. No “maybe if I just…” decisions.
That one night stand? Definitely not the solution!
Therapy & medication are tools, not weaknesses. If your brain is sick, help it heal – no one worth a shit is judging you.

What to Do Instead of Spiraling

Journal. And get ugly about it. Be honest, even if it’s petty & especially if it’s dark. Then flip the script – What would you say to someone you love if they were feeling the way you do?
Lean on your people, even if it feels awkward or vulnerable. Any decent human will want to lift another up.
Do one tiny thing to look forward to. A creative project, a cheap vacation, plan a local hike, or learn something weird on YouTube.
Volunteer. Sometimes, giving a shit about someone else helps us give a shit about ourselves again.
Develop healthy routines to help you get through each day.

When You Feel Like Nobody Cares

Quick sad story – My mom died at home of complications from ALS four days after my 15th birthday. (Worst. Birthday. Ever.) I remember sitting on the couch in front of her while my aunt called the coroner & distant family members in the other room, and my father did shots & smoked cigarettes with my uncle outside. I asked myself, “now what do I do? How do I grieve? How do I move forward from this?” And then I realized I was left alone with the empty shell of my mom. And I screamed in agony, feeling like I didn’t matter.

This just magnified my tendency to shut down and disappear when I’m in pain. As an adult, I try hard to consciously choose not to revert to that – I try to make sure I reach out to others just to say “hi, how are ya?!?” (even though I feel like no one does that in turn).

A little reminder (for myself, & you)…

If you ever feel like no one gives a fuck – you’re not alone, or broken, or anything like that. That pain has a root. But isolation isn’t really going to make anything better. Reach out anyway – you’ll never know if some light will reach back otherwise.

Selective Apathy : A Survival Skill in a Loud World

“Let the chaos settle, & clarity will follow”

From there, we need to focus on caring deeply about things that matter to us, & not at all about things that drain us. Mindfulness is a matter of noticing where your energy goes unattended, & rerouting it with intention.

According to the Dalai Lama (& a million philosophers before him), the only constant in life is change. Suffering occurs as a natural response when we are resistant to change. When we are capable, we need to let go – accept it, so we can address it & turn it around by finding any possible meanings & lessons hidden beneath the pain.

You Don’t Have to Be Happy to Live Well

You’re not broken because you’re not blissed out. You’re still here. Still trying. And that definitely matters. You are not alone, and the world is better with you in it. Feel & live loud, even if it gets a bit ugly at times. The golden rule in life, in my opinion, is to do whatever you want so long as you don’t hurt anyone, including yourself.

If you’re in the thick of it right now — I see you. Keep doing the next right thing, even if it’s tiny. Leave a comment, message me, or just save this for later. You’re not alone in the mess.

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Rock on!