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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.
3 years ago. Wednesday, December 28, 2022 at 5:00 AM

"It is wise to search for your happiness, yet it is the process of getting there that shall be painful."

 

I have always been acutely aware that life is not easy, and being true to yourself has it's downfalls. Not everyone will like you, and most will reject you, so why is it that we search, why do we try so hard to form bonds? Our lives are miniscule in the greater scheme of things. Am I worth anyone's time? Is any one even worth My time? I am flooded with questions, yet the answers are never simple. Technically the answer is yes, but some times, that answer in no, or I don't know. I mean it's honestly situational right? Or is it just a preconception? Is there actually a meaning to life? or is it rather just that we are here and there is no greater meaning? What purpose what cause, is it that we have come to exist as we are? Why have we become so despondent to others? Why is everyone shamed for things they have done? And what purpose does those who judge serve?

I always ask questions, and most of the time I can answer them, but these are just a few that I can not seem to find the answer. Now there are a few things that I am constantly aware of, myself, all of existence, and my desire for oblivion. Those are my three constants. Life and death is a permanent cycle what lives must also die. But think, why do we live? what purpose does our existence serve. are we not destroying the very planet we grew on? Are we not killing off entire populations of creatures that have lived here longer than us, for our vast desire for expansion and civilization? We are inherently destructive, yet we are supposed to have a purpose. is it to destroy the world? or to live along side it?  These are things i can't pretend to know ever.


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