#psychblr

I've lurked on here since I was a teenager. The 2010s were definitely a wild time. So much has changed in my life since then, and I figured I'd do something a little different. Not sure what that is yet... Here's to trying.

For now, I'll stay more on the anonymous side. A little about myself:

I'm a new psychologist based in the United States. First-gen student, Latine, pagan, queer and trans as hell, and so utterly lost in this field. As I neared the end of my program, I started getting the unsettling feeling that this path wasn't for me. I thought maybe it was my internship placement. Hell, higher ed burnout alone could've explained it all. But as I officially stepped out into the field, it got worse.

So. Much. Worse.

Postdoc life is way more exploitative than I had ever imagined. Insurance companies are increasingly power hungry. My mental health hit an all time low. And did I mention the world is on fire?

I keep thinking back to a TikTok I saw. This creator (whose name of course I can't remember) noted how we are in a system that is designed to keep our nervous systems dysregulated. Oh boy, is it doing a good job. And I repeatedly find myself sitting here thinking, "My job is to literally help people's nervous system not do that."

I think back to one of my grad school professors. He always reminded us that our job, if nothing else, is to instill hope. And I now find myself thinking, "How the fuck am I supposed to instill hope under these conditions?"

Sure, it's all about human connection. And yet, it all feels so.... surreal, I guess? Talk about putting a bandaid on a gashing wound.

Like I said, I don't know what I'm trying to do here. All I know is a professional therapy TikTok or Instagram account is not the right move (I still need to keep my job, after all). If you're a fellow struggling therapist, I see you. I hope you stay a while. If you're a therapist's client, hi there. Sorry we can be such a mess. I hope this doesn't scare you off or make you worry about your therapist. If you're in the business of making healthcare inaccessible, kindly fuck off.

So yeah, thanks for reading. Until next time.

The Somatic Archive: Why Time is Not a River

Time is not a river. It is a library, and your nervous system is its most obsessive librarian.

We are sold the illusion that time flows in one direction, washing away the past. But psychological time does not flow; it accumulates. What we call emotional repetition or trauma loops—the sudden grip of an old shame, the hypervigilance that flares up in a quiet room—is not a failure to move forward. It is a timeline collapse. It is the librarian pulling an unread file from the somatic archive and placing it on your desk.

In occult terms, this is blood memory. The underworld of the psyche does not recognize calendars. Every wound, every suppressed instinct, and every archetypal defense is meticulously cataloged. When you react disproportionately to a present event, you are not reacting to the now. You are reading a text written ten years ago.

Do not try to burn the archive. It will only build itself back in the dark. Instead, practice the ritual of temporal separation: when the familiar panic rises, touch a cold surface in the room and state aloud, “This feeling belongs to the archive, not the current hour.”

You cannot outrun a ghost that lives in your own catalog. You can only learn to read the language it was written in.