Parts of this archive wander into hard places. Childhood trauma, mental health, institutional experiences, abandonment, emotional volatility, self‑blame and attempting to survive. Please read only when you feel steady enough.
This exists because I ran out of places to put bury the confusion. There are no chapters — just places. Index pages. Markers I leave for myself while I’m circling the same thoughts, rebuilding the layout every time I realize it still doesn’t make sense.
When I’m overwhelmed, I disappear into one place. When I’m numb, I drift into another. When I think I’ve figured something out and it collapses immediately, I end up back where I started, annoyed and unsurprised. There’s no order because there was never a plan. No destination either. Just locations I can return to, so I don’t have to admit I’m lost without proof.
These are the recesses of my mind — the catacombs. Side chambers. Dead ends. Places I sealed off and forgot about until they started echoing back.
- Echos
- My thoughts unleashed
- Still Here
- The Aftermath
- The Break
- The Descent
- The Places it Took Me
- Uncategorized
These are the recesses of my mind, where my suppressed memories hide. Feel free to wander.
I'm Still Here. Somehow... 