What you did when I got sick...

6/1/2026 @ 0025 hours

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTBkadbuy/

I guess since I'm new, and don't understand this much yet, I have to post what I'm talking about, the song I'm listening to and can't find. And then, I realized, everything does stem from me being able to be free now...i can finally grieve my brother. My mom, and my dad. All the trauma, everything, just let this shit go!!! I am done! I don't want anyone here trying to dim my shine one bit! I can finally heal. If someone wants to be my partner, let me be me, I'm sporadic, but I need projects!! I am finally able to shine! And I am so proud of myself, but I do regret, I spent too long with the wrong person. I tried letting my sun, shine, but he wasn't seeing it. I kept trying though. And mom kept saying, you're not seeing it. Dad sees it so clear, and i said i know...So sad with myself over that! I'm trying hard to forgive myself. I was hoping i had a hand that said, let me help you. Not change you. Dad keeps coming to me when I'm super sick saying, forgive yourself. And man, I am trying to forgive myself, I had only the tools I could to survive. Truly. And I did a damn good job! Most people would have turned up dead already! And i am still dang here, and that is because you, Danny! And now, you mom, you get my painful ass out of bed! I love your strength ❤️❤️ that's what kept my strength up through my years.

5/31/2026 @ 2000 HOURS

He thought – well, they all thought they took everything from me.

I thought I was doing good, staying long enough so she could have her own voice.

I was trying to give all I didn’t have.

Only for them to pull her down.

Take her from what she was being protected from.

Trying to keep her with friends – of her own age, and playing

And laughing as much as possible.

We were silly together!

I tried to stay until that little girl had a voice of her own.

You washed that brain.

I couldn’t stay. I was dying.

But I’m still standing after all the pain.

He didn’t take all of me.

Brain stronger.

My heart more peaceful than ever,

But certainly not open to many again.

5/30/2026 @ 1130 HOURS

It’s funny how the past sneaks up on you when you’re not looking.

An old article. A forgotten sentence.

My name just sitting there like it belonged to someone else.

They thought they owned me.

Try to manipulate me and say I was married so I would think I was stuck.

Funny thing about people like that – they’ll take what they can carry,

And then keep coming back for more.

Thieves of peace. Collectors of trust.

Such experts at calling control something softer.

For a long time I kept handing over pieces of myself,

Thinking love and respect were sold together, a matched set.

Turns out I’ve met plenty of men who knew how to say “love”

And never learned respect.

Men who listened only long enough to answer.

Men who bent the truth until I questioned my own reflection.

Still, some stubborn part of me always knew.

Knew I deserved better.

Knew disrespect had a smell to it.

Knew loneliness in company was still…loneliness.

And now, standing where I am,

Find myself noticing little clues.

A kindness here. A steady hand there.

A voice that doesn’t need to be loud to make me feel safe.

I haven’t found him yet.

But sometimes I wonder if the lesson was never to search harder –

But to only recognize him when he finally arrives.

Maybe dad knew that.

Maybe all this time he’s been leaving breadcrumbs through the years.

5/30/2026 @ 0000 HOURS

My brain is still racing. I did treatment. I hate it.

It makes me feel like crap.

Bloodwork is terrible. Of course, I know.

I see it. I smell it. I feel it.

Everybody acts like the numbers are hiding from me. Like they don’t matter.

It surely feels like they’re sitting right beside me on my nightstand

Just ticking away to be uncovered, yet again.

Hospitals scare me. The thought of going in & not coming home terrifies me more than results.

Journey of being sick, and then doing it solo is what I feared.

Yet, I am doing the best I can, especially alone.

Nobody wants to know a sick person. That’s fine. I can manage on my own.

If anyone is going to give up here, it’s going to be me.

I’m good here trying to take care of this. My heartache is up there.

5/29/2026 @ 2030 HOURS

Sitting outside on the deck after I got everything set up perfectly.

And then it starts – rain.  Funny.

Song, “Rhythm of the Rain” fits so perfectly now.  Thanks, Dad!

I pull my paper closer; hold my pen tighter.

Don’t want the ink to run.

Don’t want these words to run before they’ve had a chance to live.

It’s crazy how life is.

One minute you’re sitting in peace,

The next you’re protecting the very thing that’s helping you make sense of it all.

I don’t want to go back inside.  Not yet.  I’m tired of feeling defeated.

Someone tried contacting me from years ago.  And honestly, no thank you.

I’ve already lived that chapter.  Too much disappointment.  Old stories.

Old versions of me that I don’t fit into anymore.

Some lessons get old.  And I’m tired.  Not angry.  Just tired.

No energy left for people who only show up when it’s convenient.

The rain keeps falling.  I keep writing.  Maybe that’s the point.

I will not lose myself ever again.

Not for attention.  Not for love.  Not for someone who cannot see my worth.

I need people in my life who are happy that I shine.

People who don’t dim my light because it makes them uncomfortable.

I deserve that.  I endured a lot growing up.  More than most people know.

And I’m still here.  Still hopeful.  Still believing I deserve happiness.

So let them be them.  I can finally be me.  Let my voice be heard.

The rain continues to fall.  The ink may smear.  The paper may wrinkle.

But I’m still here.  And I’m finally learning I deserve to be.

You told me stay – so I stayed longer than I ever should have.

Long enough for sadness to start feeling familiar.

Long enough to confuse survival with love.

Mom’s birthday is coming again.

It’s almost a year now since my world split open, but it kept spinning anyway.

I’ve been trying.  God I’ve been trying.

The treatments have been helping food stay down sometimes.

If only it would quiet these memories.

They don’t stop certain nights from replaying themselves,

Like old voicemails I should’ve deleted.

I used to think love meant endurance.

Keeping the peace.  Forgiving until there was nothing left of me.

Accept excuses for someone else’s cruelty.

But, I see clearer now.  Preying on wounded women doesn’t make you powerful.

It makes you hollow.

A man performing strength for people just as empty as him.

And maybe I ignored the signs because I wanted to believe people could love gently

If you loved them hard enough first.

I know better now.

There are things I can't forgive myself for – staying too long, crying too quietly,

Mistaking manipulation for affection.

But I will never again shrink myself to fit inside someone else’s damage.

Not after everything.

This heart has carried enough grief already.

The one’s so closest to me are gone.

I’ve seen enough disappointments dressed up as promises.

I am softer than people deserved, but stronger than they ever expected.

You told your story with tears soaked deep into the corners of the bed,

Trying to convince yourself that love meant safety,

That someone who looked put together could hold your heart gently.

You chose him over the voices that raised you, because he seemed certain,

Steady, whole.

And when the night grew quiet, you searched his face for comfort,

Hoping trust would finally feel like home.

But trust became questions.

Questions became bruises no one else could see.

“Which would you prefer?”

Verbal.  Physical.  Emotional.

As if pain should ever come with options.

Still – you survived it.

You became the woman who learned the strength through breaking,

Who stitched herself together between gaslit apologies & lonely anniversaries,

Between promises & miles that never matched the map.

And somewhere inside the ache, you still carried loved.

Still carried memories.

Still whispered, “I miss you,”

Even all while learning how not to lose yourself again.

Now your voice rises stronger than the hurt that tried to silence it.

Not untouched – but uncollapsed.

A woman standing in the wreckage, heart open, truth uncovered

Finally seeing:

The strongest thing she ever did was survive