Hello Again, I’m Still Here

I’m back.
Not because everything is suddenly easy. Not because life calmed down. Because writing is how I process life as it actually is.

I took a break from this blog for a while. Part of it was exhaustion. Part of it was depression. Part of it was chronic pain doing what it does best, taking up space and energy I didn’t have to spare. Fibromyalgia flares, constant fatigue, and lately, severe back pain caused by a herniated disc have made even simple days heavy.

On February 17th, I’m scheduled for surgery. It’s not a small or easy one. It’s a complicated procedure with a painful recovery, and I won’t pretend otherwise. I’m nervous. I’m tired. And I’m still doing it, because living like this isn’t an option anymore. Recovery will take time, patience, and a lot of grace with myself, but I’m committed to healing as best I can. I’ll do my best to keep the blog updated through it all, even if some days that means fewer words and more honesty.

Another reason I stepped back was frustration. Every time I wrote something real, someone decided it was about them. Read into it. Took it personally. Played Cinderella with the glass slipper.

From now on, that stops.

I will write regardless of who feels exposed by it.

If you think a post is about you, maybe that’s information worth sitting with. Maybe that’s a cue for self-reflection. It’s not my responsibility to soften my truth so others can stay comfortable. And if the shoe fits, you’re free to wear it. I’m not here to tailor stories to protect egos.

Everything I write comes from lived experience. I don’t invent pain. I don’t cosplay trauma. I don’t write hypotheticals. I write what I’ve survived, what I’ve learned, what I’m still untangling. That doesn’t make me perfect. I have flaws. I’ve made mistakes. I’m human, and no, I’m not perfect.

What I don’t do is use my trauma or my toxic traits to hurt others.

Writing, for me, is accountability. It’s reflection. It’s how I process without projecting, how I tell the truth without pretending I’m healed beyond reach. I don’t always practice what I preach. I live with depression, Bipolar Disorder, and chronic pain, and some days coping is harder than the words make it sound. I write about what helps, what I’m learning, and what I’m still struggling with, knowing that none of it is simple or linear. If my words resonate, challenge, or sting, that’s not automatically an attack. Sometimes it’s just a mirror.

This blog exists so I can write freely. About pain. About healing. About relationships. About mental health. About the days when getting out of bed feels like a victory and the days when I feel strong again. It exists because silence never healed me, but naming things did.

So I’m here. Writing again. Imperfect, sore, depressed at times, hopeful at others, and still standing. And if anything I share here helps someone feel a little less alone or a little more understood, then that alone makes it worth it to me.

If you’re here to read with an open mind, you’re welcome.
If you’re here looking for yourself between the lines, that’s your work, not mine.

More soon. I’m not going anywhere ♥