I am struggling. These 3 words hold so much. So much frustration, misunderstanding, trauma, loneliness, broken trust and isolation. Every singular step forward in my healing also takes me 3 steps back. Because noticing that I am experiencing healing opens other roads of grief and trauma to process. Inching my way out of this is grueling and so so lonely. In the last few years, I’ve lost my village. All of the death, the pandemic, the grief and trauma everyone is experiencing has thinned out my corner. And some folks have just simply stopped asking me about what I’m going through. We’ll be sharing space and it’s like they have completely forgotten that I am living through the worst thing I have ever lived through. I know that a lot of people love me. I know that a lot of people would love me even more if I let them, but I am too fucked up to give anything. My work suffers. I’ve lost my ability to pay for support staff. I still don’t know what my ability levels are, so I keep biting off what feels like tiny pieces only they turn out to be enormous. I miss all deadlines. I follow through with half of what I’m asked. I risk losing all of this too. Maybe, it’s for the better. BOUNDARIES 💕 pls, no pep talks or advice. I have thousands of narratives going about my life. This is just the one I feel like sharing right now. I’m always accepting love, commiseration and awkward emotional barfing from fellow feral cry babies. Thank you for respecting that. P.S. this is your monthly reminder that I am not and will never be the influencer fantasy so many folks follow me for.