This blog is an attempt to self-heal through storytelling, memoir, recording self-care, and connect with others who are facing the darkest times because of anxiety and depression. the more we share our stories, the more connected we are. this is my attempt at radical vulnerability.

3005.

This is a letter I would write to you, the tapestry woven from my ex, current, and future lovers, if you exis. Because I didn’t know what to ask for before, but I do now. Just right now. This moment. Do you know what it’s like to be at the crest of a wave while on a surfboard for the first time, and decide to see if you can balance, and then take the risk and do it? Because that’s what I need from you. Have you ever decided to choose kindness over ego? Because I also need that. I would also tell you in this letter, that I am, to the core, deathly afraid that I am too much and not enough, at the same time. Always. And what I need from you, is the reassurance that you love me because of who I am, and because of those fears, not in spite of. Over and over and over again. And then I would need you to tell me that reassuring me is also ok. And that we will be ok. I would want to tell you that what a partnership means to me is that we are 100% in it together. That I would be the person you would call to help hide a body, and that if we were close enough, which I need to be, I would already have a hiding place in mind. I would want you to choose me, all the time, without question, knowing that I’m not a placid lake, but a dark and stormy ocean, whose tides calm with the touch of a hand, a gentle reassuring nudge, and an invitation to go into the arena with you. I want you to arrive to Us with a satchel of experience, love, friends, community, and a dedication to absolute authenticity, and kindness above all else. And I am writing this out, right now, in the moment, as I am thinking it, because I believe that thoughts are indeed things. And I am getting ready for the possibility that you, hypothetical amalgamation, who might be all of these things, and can do all of these things, and asks all of and exists with all of these things, might be a real live human being. Someone who exists. Because I have not found you yet. But I am getting ready for you. I am waiting. Always waiting. And maybe, like I told a very good friend one day, before he met his wife (who is now one of my absolute best friends), maybe you are getting ready for me. So if I put this out there, believing thoughts are things, and turning these thoughts into an actual thing, the universe will do its thing, and bring you to me. Because I am getting ready, and I will be waiting. And there will be a lot of dancing when it happens.

Walking Wounded.

Here In My Head.