Storms

-

 

Not every storm is outside of you.

Sometimes it’s inside. God tearing at the walls you built, shaking loose the peace you’ve been resisting.

It feels like ruin, but it’s release.

The thunder isn’t against you, it’s against the chains you wouldn’t let go.


Popular posts from this blog

Distracting/disrupting the working memory when trying to reduce past trauma

-
Image
When pulling up past stress or trauma into your working memory and then having someone distract you or give you another task to try to focus on, the process can be connected to the concept of memory reconsolidation. This technique is often used in therapies like Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) and can help reduce the impact of traumatic memories. Here's a simplified explanation of how it works: 1. Memory Reconsolidation: Memory reconsolidation is a process by which existing memories are brought back into our conscious awareness and then re-stored in the brain with potential modifications. When a memory is recalled, it becomes temporarily malleable, which means it can be modified before being stored again. 2. Working Memory and Distraction/Disruption: When you pull up a past stressful or traumatic memory into your working memory, it becomes active and accessible to your conscious mind. At this moment, the memory is vulnerable to change. Introducing a distraction...
Read more

The Blade of the Storm

-
Image
There's a storm inside me, ravenous, unyielding, tearing through marrow and bone. It howls my name, shaking the walls of a house already crumbling. No light reaches here. No sound but the crash of waves, the gnash of despair against the cliffs of my soul. I reach for the blade like a lover, its cold kiss a promise, its edge a choir of sirens. "Let me free you," it sings, and I listen because nothing else will. The sting is a hymn; it drowns the storm for a moment, but the silence never lasts. Each etch I draw, a map- a desperate attempt to chart what cannot be spoken, what cannot be seen. But the ink runs red, and the map leads nowhere but back to places where the wreckage began. I sink deeper, my hands shaking, my breath heavy with the weight of shadows. I think, maybe this is all I am: a body breaking under its own weight, a canvas for pain, a vessel for despair. But then— a flicker, faint as a candle's breath. A whisper rises, not from the blade, but from somewhere...
Read more

Rebuilding After the Ruin

-
Image
FO U N D AT I ON: LE AR N I N G T O EX I S T WI TH OU T T H E CHA O S Nobody talks about the identity crisis of healing. You spent years being the person who drank, the one who numbed, the one who disappeared when it got too hard. That identity was more than just addiction—it was your structure, your ritual, your way of moving through the world. You knew how to exist inside destruction. You knew how to build your life around the next escape. And now? Now that the crutch is gone—who the hell are you supposed to be? There’s a misconception that once you remove the addiction, life will naturally rearrange itself into something whole. But addiction wasn’t just a habit—it was a framework. It dictated your relationships, your choices, the way you coped, the way you existed. Without it, there is no automatic reset. There is just the blank space where it used to be. The hardest part of stopping isn’t stopping—it’s waking up the next day and realizing you don’t know how to live inside the q...
Read more