I've spent most of my life stuck living with people who have used, abused, and violated me. After the events of last year, I just can't keep doing that. I deserve better than to feel unsafe in my home, and I won't get that sense of safety if I don't hold myself to better standards.

I usually try to maintain a sense of hope, at least on a personal level, to start the year off.

This year there is no hope. 2026 is going to be an absolutely awful year. If I'm lucky it'll only be as unspeakably soul destroying as 2025. Bare minimum I'm expecting to move again, which always sucks.

I am being uncharacteristically proactive regarding my problems this week, and I don't think anyone likes it. Especially not my problems.

I feel like I'm going a little crazy here. If a close friend of 15+ years tries to kill themselves, tells you that you're part of why, promise to talk about it later, and then flatly refuse to do so how would you feel?

Like, I get nobody owes you their story but it feels incredibly cruel to do.

Sometimes when people tell you who they are, you should listen because they're right.

Love working somewhere that will slash your hours putting you deep in the red while also constantly belittling and gaslighting you. It's just the best, like being a kid again.

I am way, way too old to still be so consistently surprised at how often everything in my life just locks eyes with me and goes "fuck you" before bursting into flames.

I know most of you haven’t met me irl but ain’t nobody making me bow down to any God.
Never.

On today, of all days, for some reason I feel compelled to say: #notmydictator

I feel so much better after coughing up that gunk I feel like I should dig out the tissue and make sure it's dead.

I've decided to wear my years on the inside, as crippling mental illness(es), rather than externally as wrinkles.