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Or how many times can I use the word “fuck” in a single of writing? I tend to think about my nervous system only when I am feeling fucking nuts: the escalation of flight, the shutdown of freeze. I know this kind of dysregulation all too well. These are my steadfast, vigilant companions, and…
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The Moon from Mystical Moments Tarot by Catrin Welz-Stein For most of my life, I’ve felt like a failure. A rather fair-to-middling one, I grant you—I did have loads of privilege and a cussed determination to fall back on—but a failure nonetheless. Let’s get right to it. I started struggling—and failing—young. My entire academic…
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I admire this human endlessly. I marvel at her regularly. She was a rare and brilliant gem. Today is Becky’s birthday, and boy, do I miss her. I miss her warmth, her charm, her talent, her goofiness… I even miss the feeling of being so much less—less charming, less impressive, less popular, all of…
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Kiddo and I had an archery lesson. I managed a few bullseyes. The rest were hers. Today is my 51st birthday. If I ever have moments of doubt about how well loved I am, all I need to do is remember how, each year on June 10th, the tiny computer in my pocket practically…
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Writings from April to June, 2025 [Nine of Swords from Tarot of Mystical Moments by Catrin Welz-Stein] My mom died six months ago, right before Christmas of 2024. And I have a confession. But first, allow me to state a few things before I share my admission. I want and need to, so you…
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My mom died a month ago. I have everything and nothing to share about this. I am not even sure what kind of post I want or need this to be. About her? About me? I am left living with only one of those things, so here we go. As most of you know,…