The day before my mother’s murder, then and now.

June 15, 2006

I woke up, got dressed. I think I wore a blue sparkly tank top from Target with a white skirt. I went to my cousin’s middle school graduation. My cousin’s and I were super close at that time, they were always over at my house and I used to take my little cousin to school each morning in my mustang convertible. It was a celebratory time, as graduations usually are.  My mom was mad that she couldn’t attend because of work, but she had the next day, Friday, off of work to go to her brother’s graduation. We went to lunch, I think it was at Islands but I can’t remember for sure. Then we went to see Cars in the theatre. Continue reading “The day before my mother’s murder, then and now.”

Mental Health Diaries: Safe Spaces

Safe Spaces Part 1: They don’t exist

Content Warning: trauma, murder, vivid descriptions of mental health/illness, suicidal ideation

I witnessed my mothers murder in 2006. I was also stabbed during the break-in. It was the worst night of my life, as you could have guessed. This one night, one event, one hour of my life, changed every single thing. It has managed to affect it all in some way, great or small. I feel like before I begin any story about this, I have to go back in detail about the crime itself. I know, though, that I cannot each time. Today I want to tell you- or show you, rather- about safe spaces, how I rejected them, and how I learned to find them once more after developing PTSD. Continue reading “Mental Health Diaries: Safe Spaces”

It’s a wrap- February 2018 wrap up

FEBWRAP1HOT DAMN, February flew right by!

February Core Desired Feelings:

  • Stable
  • Creative
  • Ready
  • Loved
    I’m not sure why I put “ready”. Wish I’d elaborated more on this in my journal on the 1st, but alas I did not. I guess I must have meant ready to resume life again after the hell that was January.

Did I achieve these feelings?

YES. This month I really got my groove back!

Continue reading “It’s a wrap- February 2018 wrap up”

The Never-Ending Healing Work


{CW: Rape, Murder, Trauma}

Last Monday I was talking to my sex coach as I do each week. We were talking about my masturbation and sex issues that we have been working on. I kept saying “Penetration hurts me”… but I know that it doesn’t (There are several reasons it might hurt folks, I am not saying to ignore it if this sounds like you- just sayin’ that’s not the core issue for me right now). It doesn’t physically hurt me, it mentally hurts me. My mental pain mimics physical pain often, but I am usually aware of where it’s coming from if I stop long enough to listen.

I kept asking her “but why now? Why after I’ve enjoyed it for so long?” and she reminded me that trauma resurfaces when it’s safe to do so. For so long I wasn’t in a safe environment. Continue reading “The Never-Ending Healing Work”

Mental Health Diaries: my mom’s murderer


eye bath
Since I don’t have a tub in the new place, Bella helped me create a sacred space in the shower for a healing bath sans tub- 1/22/18

Last Monday was my attempted murderers/my mother’s murderers birthday. I woke up, checked my phone, and saw the date. 1/22. “Hmm…” I thought, “this date signifies something related to my mom”. Shortly after I realized it was her (yes, the killer was a woman. Something that surprises folks) birthday. I did a quick google check because I couldn’t remember if she was 3 or 4 years older than me (Looking back, this was mistake number 1 I suppose, why the fuck does it matter how old she is?) and that’s when I saw it.


Her Prisoner Pen Pal Website

Immediately I felt like someone kicked me in the stomach. This isn’t the first time she’s had one, I think it Continue reading “Mental Health Diaries: my mom’s murderer”

All the ways I’ve lost my voice

All the ways I’ve lost my voice…


I started this blog to be my safe space for creativity. Everywhere I go there are rules and expectations. ‘Sell this, write this way, talk about this…’ and I rebel against it all. Sometimes I just want to type my thoughts and hit publish, no editing. Leave the fucking spelling mistakes. The bad grammar. The way I repeat myself too often or talk in circles. The beautiful chaos of my mind… just let it be. Yet I still have a hard time coming here and writing. I feel blocked. I have felt this way for a long while now.

Continue reading “All the ways I’ve lost my voice”