I've spent years feeling like I was manually intercepting every thought, emotion, and fear before it could destroy me. Then I realized—my mind has been playing a nonstop game of Missile Command. And I'm finally learning how to put down the joystick.

I used to rage at my parents for not seeing what was happening to me. But now I understand—they couldn’t. Because they weren’t given the tools to see themselves. This isn’t just about trauma. It’s about intergenerational blindness. And I’m the one breaking that pattern.

What does it actually feel like to reclaim your sense of reality after being taught to mistrust your own knowing? This blog explores the lived, layered process of returning to the body after religious gaslighting, emotional neglect, and dissociative survival.

This blog captures the disorienting, painful, and powerful process of emerging from lifelong dissociation and finally beginning to inhabit your own body and presence.

Is it a disorder, or the result of survival in a world that doesn't make room for you? This post explores how DPDR, binge eating, hyperawareness, and trauma responses might not be signs of illness—but of systems colliding inside a single human life.

This piece explores the lived experience of depersonalization-derealization disorder (DPDR), how it forms through trauma and epistemological abuse, and what recovery looks like when your system begins to thaw. We break down the mechanisms, metaphors, and emotional loops of DPDR in plain, grounded language.

Awareness isn’t a vague concept—it’s your active, alive capacity to notice and respond. You can train it to redirect attention, witness without merging, rewire meaning, and even reassemble a sense of self. This post breaks down exactly how.

Some people with DPDR build hyper-organized lives as a way to feel real. But healing can look like something softer: gently narrating yourself back into the day, grounding yourself in time and identity after years of dissociation.

I felt something shift: the part of my attention that used to split off to worry and analyze is coming back into focus. My left eye—once caught in a kind of dissociative vigilance—is now participating in the present. I think my mind is healing.

Growing up in Evangelical Christianity, I was taught to interpret emotions as the Holy Spirit. Only recently did I realize those were my own feelings all along—misunderstood, outsourced, and overwritten. This blog explores the moment I took back ownership.