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.
Tell me who likes a man in uniform, sorry this picture of me (left) is four years old. right after i had finished basic training, i was standing there with my drill sergeant.
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