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Letters from the Edge of Tolerance

This is where I document life lived with CPTSD, ADHD, DID, OCD, abandonment trauma, rage, and the long term psychological consequences of instability. Not for sympathy. Not for inspiration. For examination.

I write about trauma the way a mechanic tears down an engine. Piece by piece. What broke. Why it broke. What it still does under stress.

You will find poems that bleed without asking to be saved. Essays that dissect ethical BDSM, power exchange, dominance, consent, and responsibility without romantic illusion. Reflections on betrayal, identity, dissociation, religion, rage, control, and the uncomfortable mathematics of trust.

This is not a healing space. It is an honest one.

I do not frame survival as beautiful. I frame it as necessary.

If you are looking for optimism, look elsewhere.

If you want unfiltered analysis from someone who has lived at the upper edge of tolerance for decades and still functions, read on.

Existence is not always a gift.

Sometimes it is a condition.
1 week ago. Sunday, February 15, 2026 at 3:17 AM

I have to say that even in the best times I still find my self struggling with the darkness that lurks in me. So when I do find a light I tend to cling to it hard, cradle it in my arms and pray that it never goes out. Though inevitably it will, and the only thing I can do is move forward in the dark and hope that I may find another.

 

Dealing with major depression, CPTSD, DID, and several other mental health problems has never been easy for me. The flash backs and anxiety, the manic attacks and the constant desire to just not exist anymore. But I still persist even when I don't want to. So I huddle here in my inner darkness cradling and nurturing the light that I find hoping that my world brightens.

 

Yet the constant whispers in my ear reminding me that nothing is forever and once I'm used up that light will just move on past me. I hate hearing it but I can't help but try to protect myself knowing that ultimately that beast has always been right. Yet I hope that someone sometime will prove that beast wrong. 

 

Yet I have found Hope. And I pray this time it will not be false. I hope it will be true and real. I pray this light will brighten my world and lead me away to the inner peace that I wish I had.

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