32 going on 12.

Twisted, tormented spirit.
Born and bred in the great forest’s of Oregon
now living in Houston.

Raised hugging trees
talking to unicorns
burying my feet in the sand
being sad
reading books
Not much has changed.

I always wished for dimples on my cheeks.
When I grew up and got dimples on the wrong cheeks, I realized how very precise
you must be
when making wishes.

I’ve always been the one that could never quite fit in.

I write to survive.
My thoughts fill me and fill me and fill me

In August 2012, I began this blog
in an attempt to heal from the trauma I had experienced throughout my life.
I had promised myself that if, in one year,
my life didn’t miraculously change,
I would (after two previous unsuccessful attempts) finally end my suffering … end my life.

What I ended up finding
was healing,
more support than I deserved,
and a husband
that changed my life completely.

I am crazy.
I have a past full of
depression, anxiety, panic attacks,
addiction, self harm, abuse, suicide attempts, promiscuity, therapy and endless medications
to prove it.

I met a boy through this blog.
We kissed for the first time,
and were married four months later.
we live our happily ever after
with our cats
and our fights
and our junk food.
You can learn more about us here

I don’t really have a plan. Plans are for people who pretend to have their shit together.

I don’t blog much these days anymore, but I leave these words here in hopes that they will find you when you feel alone.