On PTSD.

Yesterday morning I had a moment. The simplest trigger: at a cafe, an old framed portrait on a white wall that reminded me of something from then. And I was off. Cycles of panic, terror, helplessness, pain, fear. And then I came back. Doing the things that help me be...

International Borekas and Repression Day

Not feeling much like writing this morning. Yesterday I learned that my friend killed himself. So mostly what I’m feeling like is crying and staring at the wall. But at the same time needing to write something, because writing has been my comfort at so many...
The Fluent Self