4/21/2026

I was in the middle of listing off my tasks of the day on my post-it

The words became fuzzy

Takes a moment, but I realize I’m crying

Then I’m sobbing

There is this overwhelming warm wave over my body

It starts from the top of my head all the way down to my toes

Every.single.muscle.releases

I’m drained…

Every cell in my body is exhausted

I’m so fatigued

I feel exposed

Similar to when I got my cast removed from my leg

I was so use to what was there

I wasn’t aware of the muscle atrophy or the grey…flakiness skin…

She gave me this final puzzle piece

It was like someone giving me credit for sucking it up

For figuring it out all on my own

And it gave my body permission to release…

I had the answer

And I had a witness…

4/15/2026

(Dream)

I’ve been on the run from the cops for a long time. It feels like this has been going on forever.

Somehow it’s tied to my OCD and this feeling of being out of control.

I’m arrested over and over but somehow escape.

I meet up with my cousin, and I break back into the place we were at before.

I wrap things up quickly and leave again. Now everyone is looking for me (family too).

Even my bad cousin is involved...I’m being hunted

His sister sees me, but instead of turning me in, she warns me that they’re coming.

I try to run, but I get caught and arrested again.

This time, xxxx is there, and so are my parents.

I’m crying and telling them I’m innocent, but it feels like they’ve already abandoned me.

xxxx is the only one who doesn’t.

That same familiar feeling comes back

Out loud, I announce it. “I want to die”… but I feel bad.

Because I know xxxx is there.

I tell one of the officers to get him out of there.

Then I’m being put into a police car.

I grab the holster.

I wake up right at the click…

4/8/2026

(Dream)

I’m screaming

My heads heavy…. Its rattling

I rush to the restroom

I switch the light on

Movement across my chest catches my eye

My heart beat is in my ear

The hissing glides over my scalp

Just before my eyes meet my reflection

The realization of what I am causes agony in my bones

I awake

Crying, terrified, and sweaty

2/20/2026

(Dream)

Dreaming of Sandoval’s old office

I’m in a bed with Mufasa

I’m dreaming of him…

2/2/2026

The details of this one were hard to keep

(Dream)

I’m in my office

Someone else is standing there watching as a search my desk drawer for something

I pull out the stuffed fox

It's not mine though

It seems this is what I'm looking for

I stop searching and say something to the person in the room

When I look back down I notice hundreds of black bugs just underneath the knit suit

The back of the fox’s head is covered as they move quickly underneath the surface

This scared me and I toss the fox

I awake

Coward

"You changed"

The words caused pause in me

The blows kept coming- “pathetic”, “weak”

I heard him out

I tried to explain…

"At least she showed up"

His words immediately echoed in my head as he spoke them

I had to admit… he was telling the truth

1/26/2026

Art came back into my life early 2022.

Prior to that, the last time I picked up a paintbrush, or even used a pencil for expression was over a decade before.

As a little girl, I did not like dolls or barbies.

I couldn't care less about makeup or dress up costumes.

I lived for the smell of a fresh box of 8 crayons.

Oh, how I was jealous of the kids that got the box of 64 crayons.

You know the one, the one that included a sharpener.

I jumped at the chance to engage with anything crafty or artistic.

I loved teachers that would incorporate art into assignments.

In high school I met an art teacher who gave me unlimited access to her studio.

This was the first time I was exposed to so much more beyond crayons, pencils, and 99 cent store paint.

I ended up committing to 2 years of classes with her- I never ditched her class.

I have destroyed or tossed out most of the things I have made over the years.

I have been fighting this same persistent urge for the last four years.

I don't want another ten years to go by only for me to wonder where all my symbols have gone.

Not everything I make is aesthetically pleasing.

And sometimes it doesn't even make sense to me.

But I wonder if future me might be able to make sense of the hieroglyphics, I create today.

Or perhaps maybe the meaning I make of them will only gain more depth with time.

I spent years thoughtfully contemplating the art I permanently inked into my body.

The meaning attached to these symbols still resonates today.

Because they are declared so forcefully on my body. It's inevitable to continuously reflect on their meaning.

I now think there is a reason why I never got more.

The myth is complete with all four.

1/20/2026

Bars are one of my favorite places to people watch

The stools and libations given people this perceived status

They forget there are others around them

And a single women in the ocean of them goes unnoticed

I like to pretend I’m someone else

I use to say it was because of my careers

Neither are preferable to announce in a room full of drunk strangers

But, I also think I like the adventure of following a story that has nothing to do with me

I did this a lot as a kid

It provided a temporary escape to the experiences I was consumed by

There is a freedom in acting out a character I have never really lived

I get to manipulate the situation as I shift the details of my story

But being a chameleon has allowed me to enter rooms I probably wouldn’t normally be welcomed in

I’m not talking about power or status

Just rooms I have no business being in

It has allowed me observe different worlds and have new experiences

I’ve always struggled to truly connect with people

In this way, I’m control

I don’t feel so lonely

1/24/2026

I struggled to keep the the details of this one

(Dream)

My stuffed fox is missing from my office

I quickly scan each room as I make my way down the hallway

I find her in ******’s office

She is laying flat on her back

Appears somewhat deflated

There is a note on her stomach, hand-written

I wish I remembered what it said.

1/25/2026

We shall not cease from exploration

And the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time.

T. S. Elliot

1/9/2026

It's not enough…

12/24/2025

My therapist and I used to have a routine disagreement about my wisdom and intelligence. She’d be very vocal about her perspective and hope for me.

That one day I might at the bare minimum acknowledge I was smart.

“But”, she’d say, “If you could see how brilliant your mind is and how truly wise you are…the journey will begin”.

Obviously, I’d sit there and argue all my points as to why I knew nothing and was quite the idiot. “People have told me so”, I’d demand. She’d discredit every witness…

I was always irritated during these conversations. One of the last conversations,…debates, we had on the topic she stated, “This relationship ends when you believe you’re smarter than me. When you believe I have nothing else to teach you”.

I believe this women saved my life more times than I can count. This statement, to a point, still sounds ridiculous to me.

I worked with her for 10 years because she was brilliant. And, to be outright frank-called me on my shit.

I was irritated because she was calling out a shield I used to survive. She was challenging it’s truth and therefore, it’s existence. And I can’t let go of a tool that saved my sanity (whatever amount I have left of it).

I stopped seeing her 1.5 years ago. I said it was because I got busy and finances shifted. I don’t think I was honest with her but only because I wasn’t honest with myself. I seriously believed I would return when things settled. I always came back.

When the time came I just couldn’t seem to “find the reason” to go. Not because I felt “cured” or better. I couldn’t place the feeling or even speculate on the potential reasons I suddenly didn’t need it while also needing something.

Not until this summer.

The feeling,…consideration dawned on me. (yes, despite being bluntly told for a decade. I’m regrettably stubborn.)

Her final words played over in my head. “Did our relationship actually end?” And if so, would it mean I believe I’m not so stupid after all?

I experimented with the idea.

The findings were hard to refute- even for me.

The longer I’ve sat with this perspective.

“hmmm, I’m not soooo stupid?”.

The more it’s corrected my vision. At least cleared some of the fog. Enough for me to see that what I’m looking at is truly a shield.

I pretend to be stupid. I have all my life. If I look at this from a more surface point of view and a concrete linear process it’s clear where it comes from. We can tie the story to a series of events where I’m told and treated like I’m stupid, yes. AND, the most important/significant person in this being my mother. It was one of the many criticisms she had for me.

However, I think this defense was also created for another reason.

It didn’t become clear until this weekend.

There wasn’t a feeling of shock or even disappointment.

Just this, “Oh, right”… kind of a confirmation.

I regressed… progressively so the smaller the number of miles between us became.

But I couldn’t JUST be a regressed version of me.

I had my baby and so I watched as I moved between these two selves.

The little one and this… protector…defensive…mother.

And this mother self couldn’t play stupid. No, she needed to be smart and wise for her baby.

There was no way it wasn’t that.

I couldn’t sacrifice him for the mortality of my shield. The choice has always been him- it’s why I’m still here…

So many things overlap and are webbed into this.

But for the purposes of tightening it up…

This defense has allowed me to gaslight myself.

I can continue to live in denial and maybe that doubt will always come lingering back. BUT, with this shield I would never have to face the facts of what my life has been like.

I oscillate between believing myself and doubting it all but the defense has always won the battle.

If I’m stupid, then how could I possibly know what I’m talking about? None of it really happened…

If I’m stupid, then I don’t have to be painfully aware of the show and dance everyone participates in. I could participate too.

If I’m stupid, I can stay small, stay seated. I evade responsibility.

If I’m stupid, I don’t need to be the “bad guy” that wakes everyone up. I avoid judgment of the dirty truths I already so shamefully repress.

Awareness comes at a huge cost. You must sacrifice and leave behind those who cannot and/or choose to not open their eyes.

I have been singled out, outcasted, and punished for being different all my life. When all I really wanted was to be accepted. All I wanted was to belong somewhere and couldn’t understand what about me was so wrong. If I play stupid with them then at the very least, couldn’t be rejected for being anything other than that.

Stupidity allows me to avoid the anger and resentment of never being protected.

It allows me to ignore my desire to belong somewhere as myself,…Eeyore

To avoid facing the guilt that comes from making the choice. The harm I am to cause for being authentically me and leaving them behind. And for no other reason other than I no longer want to be, here.

Behind the defense is someone who is capable, perceptive, brilliant, and potentially disruptive.

The group has never had a need for these qualities. They made me worthless and a rebel.

Emotional and artistic has no place in this dynamic.

My therapist would also ask a routine question to trigger reflection, “Is it them rejecting you or is there a part of you rejecting them?”.

“Is this where you even want to be? Do you really care what they think?”

I suppose I just feel I SHOULD.

I think this restless feeling I’ve had for the last year is coming from deep part of me that knows my time is running out.

The shield no longer works if I can’t get myself to believe in it anymore.

So, if the answer is that I’m smart.

What next?

I’ve been holding my breath in the in-between because I know keeping one foot out stalls the inevitable domino effect that is to come should I drop this shield.

I can’t change the past and the damage it caused- the years lost.

The childhood forsaken.

It’s pretty evident that I was right.

I watch the predictability of everyone’s choices and even my own.

I’ve spent life in survival and in pain. Wanting out.

Choosing to live for one person. Is that all there is?

It’s hard to fuel my tank with this if I’m no longer hiding behind the defense of idiocy.

So if I move forward, what would it be for? What is the point?

It’s obnoxiously clear that I need courage to solve this one.

Do I have or can I find the courage to live past the worst things that happened to me?

In service of what or who?

12/24/2025

(Dream)

I'm in an session, as the therapist

I begin coughing and can't seem to stop

So I turn the camera off because now i’m gagging

I begin to feel something coming up

My throats attempt to clear itself...

I cough up ball a little bigger than a golf ball

The sphere is all phlegm and holding its shape well

I move it back and forth between my hands

Inspecting it…

I awake

12/19/2025

Choices, choices, choices

What am I supposed to be feeling then?

Numb? Indifference?

How do I do this?

Fuck it

12/15/2025

It's been 6 days…

I move quickly

Trying not to see or smell

If I move fast enough I can pretend nothing is happening

I’m tired…

It's hard to pretend

My body is heavy

My breathing is so heavy

The sharp cramps trigger it…

the plague

The smell is hard to ignore

Strong smell of Iodine

And blood…

Day 6 smells like i’m rotting…

Like carneceria drains…

It’s black. Real black…

Like charcoal

It's really plague…

Chunks, of… me

It's so much…

I couldn’t help it

The nausea didn’t surprise me

Before I could catch it the vomit comes spewing out on the bathroom floor

I’m disgusting

It's poison

I’m infected

I’m dirty….

The contractions trigger pain

But I can’t stop gauging

I can’t breathe

Nothing is coming out

But nothing is going in

I try to wash it off

I scrub until the skin feels new

Hoping the hot water cleanses me

It never does…

Why would it now?

Just set it on fire

12/13/2025

You’ve been on my mind again…

We often discussed my lack of true connection with others

You’d highlight my ability to flex and adapt in any room I’m put in

But a person raised in survival sees the world differently

I’ve tried to conform and disown these traits

From the outside, my performance is due an Oscar

But on the inside I feel a disconnect

Just a collection of cheap bids for connection

I was learning to survive when other kids were learning to dream…

Their homes were safe havens- mine a battlefield

I was brought up on survival

Love was given in drops

Just enough to keep me from dying…

But also never enough to live…

I flip from acceptance to resistance about it

Both loving my independence and at times longing to just be like everyone else…

Seems it’d be easier to be like everyone else…

I’ve had a dream since I was a little girl

You know the dream…

You’ve told me it would never leave me

And I’d have to find a new way of relating to it

Lately, it feels more like a reality

I keep having these dreams…

Dreams I avoid writing down (you know the routine)

I wake up feeling disconnected from this life and myself

But it’s different

Like the trigger is from a force outside of me this time

No where in my mind or body

Feeling weak and powerless is something I cannot admit to…

Grief and rage bubble under the surface…

What difference does it make to be angry?

To feel the sadness shaking through my body?

The starting pistol has gone off

But I’m still lying at the starting point…

11/25/2025

I’m scared of myself

People think fear is suppose to only be about something outside of you

Something you can fight or run from

But what do you do when the fear lives inside you?

When it’s your own mind…

I feel like I’m carrying something dangerous inside me

I wish I could trust my own mind

11/16/2025

The same familiar feeling took over

Initially, anxiety

But truly, terror

I jumped… again

Leaped

I’m free falling

Just hoping I land on my feet once more

Can I manage?

Can I figure it out?

Is this crazy?

Maybe…

But when has my life ever not been crazy?

10/16/2025

Queen (noun):a female ruler or a woman of high rank, but it also symbolizes power, wisdom, and accomplishment.

You told me once I had “Queen energy”

I laughed at the time- not understanding your intent with this statement

I specifically laughed at this comment because of your explanation

You said I had a commanding presence

That people reacted to my “soul”, my energy

Even if they weren’t conscious of it…

They sought out my wisdom and knowledge

Were curious of my pursuits and accomplishments

But the funniest statement to me was when you said-

“When you speak, people will listen and move mountains for you”

“People believe and connect with your message”

You believed my voice had power

That it could move people and cause change

And at that time in my life I was confronted with the reality that my voice truly didn’t matter

In that moment it felt… invalidating

You revealed your own interest and investment in this “queen” power

But I felt nothing like a queen…

The imagery that played over and over in my head..

Was of this girl in oversized clothes

Torn up, dirty

Discarded as garbage long before she could speak

And here you were…calling her a queen…

It felt like you didn’t see me…

But it never upset me

I’m use to being unseen

It felt like confirmation of this belief

There are many occasions of this

Of your words over the years…that continue to linger or surface

Lately, the word QUEEN continues to come to mind

I think of the fish bowl analogy you gave me…

…I think I see it

And it scares me…

The power

The influence

I hadn’t considered it before

But it’s always been there

I could never explain it

Why would people care for my opinion?

Why would I be the first person on speed dial?

Why was I always associated with safety?

I summed it up to being someone who’d show up for the fight

I can own that-I’ll be the first to pull my hair up and take my earrings down for someone I love

But that’s not what you meant…was it?

That’s not why they call me… is it?

So much of my life has been about “lack of power”

“Lack of control”

“Lack of safety...”

Yet, somehow…. in some way, I have influence

How can that be?

“What the fuck do I know?”

I always tell them

“Don’t listen to me…”

“Don’t trust me…”

“Don’t do as I say…”

And yet they do,…

Then they come back to ask for more

They put me on this pedestal

I see it, I feel it

Like I’m some guide full of wisdom

And I don’t know how to explain that what they see is a wounded little girl

Just trying to survive…

I hate myself

And I’m scared…

I have always wanted better for others

I have desired safety for them…

I have pushed people I love and care for to be better than me

But I’m beginning to question…

Maybe my phone keeps ringing because they see something I can’t

Something you saw in me

9/23/2025

(Dream)

The scene starts in my office

It’s like a movie

Like I’m witnessing a private conversation

But the person on the couch appears to be speaking in my direction

Her hair covers her face

She’s cradling her face in her hands

She’s crying

Sobbing

The only thing audible is an abrupt statement she makes

“I can’t believe you’re seeing and hearing all of this. Good thing your face is so flat!”

As if to say it was less embarrassing to be watched by a relaxed face

She immediately turns to me as she says this and laughs

Making eye contact suddenly pulls me into the body sitting across from her

It no longer feels like a movie

But like I’m trapped in this body suit

I wake up