2003 set forth a series of life altering events, that can't to a peak in 2006 when my life almost ended. 22yrs later there's times that it feels like yesterday and then an entire life ago like it didn't even happen.
Search This Blog
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
22yrs later
Balance
We hear a lot of people talking about "balance" or "finding balance" but we never have any direct examples or guided steps in finding balance. It's because balance is not a physical tangible thing that you can just go to the store and purchase. Balance is a way of life. Of finding that halfway point between two situations. For instance, the whole "work, homelife, balance" this is the thought or idea that you need to have a mundane life that is just as valuable as your 9 to 5 life. Many of us over prioritize the 9 to 5 life because we are in the mindset that we have to work hard in order to have a good life. And where that is mildly true, it also takes away from our ability to have a life worth living.
Balance is something that we all lack, be it in our diet, our life, our spirituality, or whatever. I know that I myself am terribly unbalanced in many areas of my life. My home needs to be balanced, yet instead of doing the dishes from the last 4 days, I'm sitting in front of my computer typing this out. Instead of washing and putting away my clothes, after this I'm going to curl up in bed and watch the next episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (of which I have seen like 40 times since it aired). And prior to writing this, I made a 10-minute video on TikTok and a 43-minute video on YouTube. I also need to go water the yard (something I haven't done at all this summer) but why am I telling you this instead of doing the things listed above? Well that is because of my chemical imbalance (ADD/ADHD/Mental Health/Physical Health/Dopamine/Lack of Reward for effort)
My spiritual life (something i very rarely ever talk about because of it being a very personal thing for me and something that I don't wish to share on my Hello Cupcake It's Me platform) is totally out of balance too. But what am I doing to bring balance back into my life? I am taking active steps to stay busy throughout the day to the best of my ability. I am trying to keep my mind as well as my emotions regulated (something very hard to do nowadays with the climate of the nation the way that it is) and just trying to make it from minute to minute, hour to hour, day to day. Am I making any progress in that, yes and no. But the fact that even through some of my imbalances, I am still trying, still pushing forward, and still attempting to do something meaningful I think needs to be apricated to a degree...right? *crickets*
But what looks like balance for me, may not be what it looks like for you, and thats ok. Everyone's goal line is different, and just as important. Just because finds no value in what you are currently doing, or what you are able to accomplish with what you have available to you at this moment doesn't take away from the fact that you are finding value in it. With some minor exceptions to that, like drinking, doing drugs, etc. because that only leads to bad things for you and are not good.
Find your balance. Put as much effort into the "suck" as you do the "awesome". Yeah no one wants to do the shitty sucky things in life, but when balanced out, it does help to feel better about yourself and the events of the day.
Sometimes the Most Meaningful Conversations Happen in a Parking Lot
As I was wrapping up my day, I found myself talking with a woman from the recovery community. It wasn't planned. It wasn't part of some counseling session. It was just one person recognizing another human being who was hurting. Sometimes that's all it takes.
At one point during our conversation, she became emotional in a way that immediately caught my attention. If you've ever been around someone who has struggled with methamphetamine addiction, you may know what I'm talking about. There can sometimes be these exaggerated emotional responses—almost theatrical in nature—not because the person is intentionally being manipulative, but because years of substance use can affect the way emotions are expressed.
For me, that moment was unexpectedly triggering.
My biological mother struggled with addiction for much of her life, and I recognized those behaviors almost instantly. It brought back memories I wasn't expecting to revisit. But instead of allowing those memories to shut me down, I reminded myself that this wasn't about my past. This was about the person standing in front of me.
She wasn't trying to manipulate me.
She was hurting.
Sometimes people simply don't have the emotional tools to communicate their pain in a way that feels familiar to the rest of us.
As we talked, she shared that several of her friends were beginning to experience psychosis. She was scared. She was watching people she cared about slowly lose themselves, and she felt powerless to stop it.
In that moment, something inside me simply said:
"Michael... make time for her."
So I did.
The peer counselor in me quietly stepped forward.
We talked about recovery, about hope, and about the reality that sometimes all we can do is care about someone enough to make a phone call. If someone is in immediate danger because of addiction or a mental health crisis, there are resources available. Even anonymous welfare checks can become the first step toward getting someone connected with services and support.
We can't save everyone.
But sometimes we can help open the door.
As she continued sharing her story, I learned more about her own recovery journey. She had worked incredibly hard to rebuild her life, even while watching others around her continue to struggle.
Before we parted ways, I reached out my hand.
She shook it.
I introduced myself properly.
"My name is Michael."
Then I told her something I don't think enough people hear:
"I know you don't know me from a hole in the wall, but if no one else has said this today... I'm proud of you."
Recovery isn't easy.
People who have never battled addiction often underestimate just how much strength it takes to wake up every single day and choose not to go back.
I reminded her that she had already seen what rock bottom looked like.
Nobody wants to live there unless they truly believe there's nowhere else to go.
She had made the decision to climb out.
I encouraged her not to let someone else's relapse become permission for her own.
Other people's struggles don't have to become your destination.
Keep fighting.
Keep choosing yourself.
Keep moving forward.
As I turned to leave, she stopped me.
With tears beginning to form in her eyes, she asked,
"You're not an angel... are you?"
I laughed.
"I've been called far worse."
We both smiled.
Then I told her the truth.
"No... I don't think I'm an angel."
I'm just someone who believes that kindness costs very little but can mean absolutely everything to the person receiving it.
I genuinely hope the encouragement I offered helped lighten her load, even if only for a few moments.
Sometimes people don't need someone to solve their problems.
They just need someone to remind them that they're still worth fighting for.
Moments like these remind me why I've always preferred genuine conversations over formal settings whenever possible.
There's no desk separating two people.
No clipboard.
No clinical environment.
No feeling like every word is being analyzed or documented.
Just two human beings sharing space.
Now, don't misunderstand me—professional counseling has an incredibly important place, and for many people it's exactly what they need. But there's also something uniquely powerful about an authentic conversation that happens naturally. When people feel safe enough to simply talk, without the pressure of being "in session," they often open up in ways they never expected.
Sometimes healing begins with nothing more than someone taking the time to listen.
The stranger standing next to you in line.
The cashier at the grocery store.
The person sitting alone in a parking lot.
Every one of us is fighting battles that the world may never see.
If we approached one another with just a little more patience, a little more empathy, and a little less judgment, I honestly believe we'd all be better for it.
As I always like to leave you with a few reminders:
You're doing the best you can with what you have available to you.
Don't let other people's opinions dictate how you feel about yourself.
And in a world full of Karens...
Be somebody who cares.
When Praise Was Weaponized
Sometimes it is.
But some of the deepest wounds don't leave bruises. They leave doubt.
Growing up, there were people who discovered that emotional manipulation was far more entertaining than physical intimidation.
They'd tell you someone liked you.
They'd convince you to walk across the cafeteria.
Then they'd all laugh because it wasn't true.
Maybe they'd compliment your clothes only to tell everyone later they were joking.
Maybe they'd tell you that you did a great job on something...
"...for someone like you."
Those tiny moments don't seem significant individually.
But stack enough of them together over years, and eventually your mind starts asking one question every time someone is nice:
"Where's the catch?"
Stop Overthinking Praise and Heal From Past Cruelty
If you've ever felt that way, you're not alone.
For some people, compliments feel warm. They feel validating. They feel like someone noticing the hard work they've put into becoming the person they are today.
For others... compliments feel dangerous.
That difference doesn't happen by accident.
Our brains are remarkably good at learning patterns, especially patterns that help us survive. If enough people use praise as bait before humiliating you, your mind eventually stops hearing compliments as kindness and starts hearing them as warning sirens.
Imagine touching a hot stove. You don't need to burn your hand a hundred times before your brain learns that glowing red coils equal pain. Emotional experiences work much the same way. If every "Good job!" was followed by ridicule, every "You're looking good today" ended with laughter from across the room, or every moment of vulnerability became ammunition for someone else's entertainment, your nervous system begins treating kindness like a trap.
The frustrating part?
Years later, when genuinely kind people enter your life, your brain is still operating with outdated software.
It's running Windows 95 while everyone else upgraded years ago.
one of those days
You ever have one of those days where you wake up feeling like you're absolutely crushing life... and then the universe decides to humble you?
That was my Wednesday.
I actually slept really well the night before, which almost never happens, so I was up around 7:30 and hit the ground running. By the time I sat down to record, I'd already met with a new psychiatrist, paid my rent, gone to therapy, and somehow found myself arguing with a pharmacy over medication I've been taking for almost ten years.
Because... apparently that's how adulthood works.
The pharmacy called me the day before wanting to question my insulin dosage. I've been on the same dose for nearly a decade. I explained that I'm insulin resistant, that I use an insulin pump, and that I only use injections when my blood sugar spikes really high. Pretty straightforward.
Their solution?
Cancel the prescription.
So now I get to burn more gas—which isn't exactly cheap these days—and make another trip because somebody decided they knew my medical history better than I do.
It's frustrating, but it's also one of those reminders that sometimes the biggest drain on our mental health isn't some deep existential crisis. Sometimes it's just paperwork, phone calls, prescriptions, and systems that make absolutely no sense.
The good news is that not everything about the day was a headache.
I met with a new psychologist, and honestly, I think she's a fantastic fit. If I had to score it, I'd probably give the appointment a 98 out of 100. The only downside is that she's currently an intern, so eventually I'll have to transition back to a primary care provider.
The problem?
My doctor of almost ten years retired.
So now I'm basically a kid wandering the grocery store looking for his mom.
I've got a couple of doctors I can try, although I wasn't exactly thrilled with either of them the first time around. To be fair, I was pretty sick when I saw them, so maybe they deserve another chance. First impressions aren't always the whole story.
I'm also trying to convince a friend of mine who's been a physician for years to take me on through telehealth. We've known each other for over twenty years. She remembers me from my college days when I was... let's just say a little more interested in parties than responsibility. Now she's a doctor, and I trust her enough to know she'd always have my best interests at heart.
Some days, though, your brain just runs out of bandwidth.
I think we underestimate how exhausting it is constantly juggling appointments, insurance, bills, medications, work, relationships, and everything else life throws at us. There are days where just answering one more phone call feels impossible.
And that's okay.
It's okay to admit your tank is empty.
Sometimes the most productive thing you can do is get some sleep, drink some water, and promise yourself you'll tackle tomorrow when tomorrow gets here.
Since we're in June, I also wanted to talk a little bit about Pride Month.
Every single year it happens. Pride rolls around, and almost immediately social media fills with people saying some of the most hateful things imaginable. I've seen comments celebrating violence against transgender people. I've seen laughing emojis under stories where someone lost their life simply because they existed.
I'll never understand that.
Whether you're straight, gay, bisexual, pansexual, transgender, or anywhere else on the spectrum, another person's identity isn't taking anything away from you.
History is filled with examples of same-sex relationships and gender diversity. None of this is new. Humanity has always been diverse. What's changed over time isn't that LGBTQ+ people suddenly appeared—it's how societies have viewed and treated them.
For me, one of the most beautiful things about Pride isn't even the parades.
It's watching people finally feel safe enough to be themselves.
Seeing someone smile because they no longer have to hide who they are is a pretty incredible thing.
That deserves to be celebrated.
If you're an ally, thank you.
Sometimes the smallest act of kindness—standing up for someone, refusing to laugh at a hateful joke, simply treating another human being with dignity—can make a bigger difference than you'll ever know.
Speaking of being yourself...
I wore one of my obnoxiously chunky necklaces today.
It's one I made myself using turquoise stones a friend gave me years ago. Some of them are real, some aren't, but I honestly couldn't care less. I just love the colors.
I've always believed that fashion is another language.
Before you ever open your mouth, you're already telling people something about yourself.
For me, that's always been bold jewelry, bright colors, and not really caring if everyone else likes it.
If it makes you smile when you catch your reflection in the mirror, wear it.
Life's too short to spend it trying to blend in.
I think the same philosophy applies to kindness.
Before you type that nasty comment online, remember there's an actual human being reading it. They're somebody's child. Somebody's sibling. Somebody's best friend.
We never really know what another person is carrying.
Kindness costs absolutely nothing.
As I get older, I've realized that resilience isn't always about making some grand comeback.
Sometimes resilience is simply paying your rent, surviving another doctor's appointment, getting through a frustrating day, and still finding something to laugh about before you go to bed.
Sometimes your biggest accomplishment is getting out of bed when your brain tells you not to.
That counts.
Celebrate those victories.
If you're struggling right now—whether it's with your health, your mental health, your identity, or just life in general—I hope you know you're not alone.
Keep moving forward.
Take things one day at a time.
Find people who make you feel seen.
And above all else...
Be unapologetically yourself.
The world already has enough people pretending to be someone they're not.
It only gets one you.
The universe and my body are testing me
I woke up one morning, checked my blood sugar before eating anything, and was greeted with a lovely little number: 375.
As a Type 1 diabetic, that's one of those readings that immediately makes you stop and think, "Well... this isn't going to be a fun day."
The frustrating part about chronic illness is that your body doesn't always tell you why it's doing what it's doing. Sometimes you can do everything right and still feel like you're playing a game where someone forgot to give you the rules.
That pretty much summed up my week.
On top of that, my back has decided it's no longer interested in cooperating with the rest of my body. The muscles from my glutes all the way down the backs of my legs have been so tight they honestly feel like someone replaced them with concrete. When you're constantly adjusting the way you walk to avoid pain, your back starts compensating, then your hips get involved, and before long everything hurts.
At one point I was literally shaking from the pain. I had taken Tramadol. I'd taken 800 mg of ibuprofen. Nothing touched it.
So... I did what a lot of stubborn people do.
I improvised.
Out came the massage gun, and I started working pressure points, chasing muscle knots, and trying to convince my sciatic nerve that we were still friends. I even laid across one of those spine stretchers with the little massage nubs sticking out of it that look suspiciously like medieval torture devices. Surprisingly... it actually helped.
It's not a cure, but sometimes you stop focusing on finding the solution and start looking for a little relief. Those small victories matter.
Then there was the diabetes adventure.
Over the course of about five hours my blood sugar bounced from the low 100s to over 400... back down... then shot back up again. I kept giving insulin through my pump and nothing was happening. Fifteen units. Twenty units. Still nothing.
Eventually I decided to give myself a manual injection, and that's when I noticed blood leaking around my infusion site.
I pulled the pump off and found exactly what I suspected: blood mixed with insulin sitting underneath the adhesive, along with a blister where the cannula had bent instead of actually making it into the fatty tissue where it belonged.
In other words, all that insulin I'd been giving myself wasn't going where it was supposed to.
Within a short time of replacing everything, my blood sugar dropped back into range.
As miserable as the experience was, it reminded me of something that applies far beyond diabetes.
When something suddenly stops working, don't immediately assume you're broken.
Sometimes the equipment is.
That lesson applies to people more often than we'd like to admit.
I've also finally reached the point where I can't keep pretending my back is something I can just "push through."
For over a decade I've been telling doctors that something wasn't right. Degenerative changes in my spine have slowly become harder and harder to ignore, and now the pain is interfering with everyday life.
I've reached out to my medical team because I need more than another prescription.
Thankfully my insurance covers holistic care, so I'm hoping to build a treatment plan that includes physical therapy, occupational therapy, massage therapy, and anything else that helps me stay functional.
I've spent most of my life advocating for other people. It's about time I became a better advocate for myself.
Speaking of advocating...
This year I wore a shirt to Pride that combined two parts of myself I've kept relatively separate over the years: my love of tarot and my place within the LGBTQIA2S+ community.
If you've followed my work for any length of time, you know I don't make a habit of hiding who I am. At the same time, there are parts of ourselves we sometimes keep tucked away—not because we're ashamed, but because we're still figuring out when and how we want to share them.
Putting that shirt on felt like ripping off a Band-Aid.
And honestly?
It was liberating.
I'm still the same sarcastic, nerdy, mental health-obsessed guy you've always known. Nothing changed except that I stopped editing a piece of myself out of the conversation.
Authenticity has a funny way of making you feel lighter.
The other thing I've realized recently is just how... stuck I've been feeling.
The last real trip I took wasn't exactly a vacation. It was spending the final month of my biological mother's life helping care for her before she passed away.
That wasn't a getaway.
That was saying goodbye.
Since then I've had a weekend Airbnb here and there, but I haven't really gone anywhere.
I miss seeing new places.
Trying different food.
Meeting new people.
Walking around somewhere I've never been before.
Sometimes changing your surroundings is exactly what your mind needs to remember the world is bigger than the problems you've been staring at every day.
I've been looking at places like Salem, New Orleans, California, Illinois... honestly, even a weekend wandering around Seattle sounds refreshing right now.
A change of scenery isn't running away from your problems.
Sometimes it's exactly what gives you the perspective to come back and face them.
Somewhere in the middle of all of this, I've also been pouring myself into writing.
I'm working on a new manuscript that blends mental health with spirituality in a way that feels authentic to me. I've had several people express interest in collaborating once I get further along, and I'm genuinely excited about where it's headed.
Writing has always been how I make sense of the chaos.
It's therapy with a keyboard.
By the time the day is over, though, I'm usually ready to shut my brain off.
Lately that's meant throwing together something simple for dinner, curling up on the couch, and rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Sometimes self-care isn't some elaborate wellness routine.
Sometimes it's comfort food, a familiar TV show, and giving yourself permission to exist without trying to fix everything for one evening.
If this week taught me anything, it's that resilience doesn't always look heroic.
Sometimes resilience is changing an insulin pump.
Sometimes it's making another doctor's appointment.
Sometimes it's admitting you're hurting.
Sometimes it's finally allowing yourself to be seen for who you really are.
Life is messy.
Healing is messy.
Growth is messy.
But none of those things have to happen perfectly.
If you're carrying something heavy right now—whether it's your health, your identity, your mental health, or just life in general—I hope you'll remember to give yourself the same grace you'd probably give someone else.
We're all figuring this out one day at a time.
And honestly?
That's okay.
If you would like to get a copy of my book you can do so by following this link https://amzn.to/4eXgNiD
A Piece of My Story
If you’ve followed me for any amount of time—through the books, the blog, YouTube, social media, the podcast, or just random conversations online—you probably already know a large portion of my story.
You know where I’ve come from.
You know many of the struggles I’ve faced.
You know the battles I’ve fought internally and externally.
You know my heart, my humor, my perspective, and my passion for mental health, self-growth, and trying to leave things a little better than I found them.
Truthfully… you probably know about 85% of who I am already.
This post is about the other 15%.
And no—this isn’t some dramatic reveal or life-altering rebrand.
I’m still me.
Same person.
Same heart.
Same values.
Same mission.
The only difference is that I’m done hiding a part of myself that has quietly existed in the background for a very long time.
So here it is.
I am part of the LGBTQ+ community.
There. No dramatic thunderclap. No lightning strike. No spontaneous collapse of the universe.
Just honesty.
And honestly, for many of you, this probably isn’t surprising at all. Some of you likely figured it out years ago. Some of you may have heard pieces of my story and connected the dots. Some of you might be learning this for the first time.
Wherever you fall in that spectrum, I want to say something important.
This changes nothing about why I’m here.
I’m still going to talk about mental health.
I’m still going to write.
I’m still going to advocate for healing, growth, mindfulness, and self-awareness.
I’m still going to have deep conversations, weird tangents, and moments of humor mixed into serious topics.
I’m still going to be me.
Because my sexuality is a part of me—but it is not the totality of me.
And I think that’s something we as people sometimes forget.
We live in a world that loves labels. Labels can be useful. They can help us understand ourselves and find community. But labels are not identities in their entirety. They’re pieces of a much larger picture.
At the end of the day, I’m still just a person trying to navigate life the same way everyone else is.
Learning.
Growing.
Messing up sometimes.
Healing.
Trying again.
Like many people, parts of my journey have been complicated.
I grew up around ideas and environments where certain things weren’t always discussed with compassion or understanding. That creates internal conflict. It creates confusion. It creates fear, silence, and sometimes shame. And when you spend enough time hiding parts of yourself, you get very good at surviving—but survival and authenticity are not the same thing.
That’s something I’ve learned over time.
There comes a point in healing where honesty becomes necessary.
Not for attention.
Not for validation.
Not for applause.
But for peace.
And peace matters.
A lot.
My entire platform has always been rooted in authenticity, mental health, and self-reflection. I’ve encouraged people for years to be honest with themselves, to challenge harmful narratives, to heal old wounds, and to stop living solely through fear.
It would feel disingenuous to encourage that in others while continuing to keep this part of myself locked away.
So this is me choosing authenticity.
Plain and simple.
I also want to say something to anyone reading this who may be navigating their own journey—whatever that journey looks like.
You do not owe the world immediate answers.
You do not have to have everything figured out.
You do not need to force yourself into neat little boxes.
And you do not need to move at anyone else’s pace.
Growth is messy. Healing is messy. Self-discovery is messy.
That’s normal.
Take your time.
Be honest with yourself.
Lead with compassion.
And remember that you are far more than any one label could ever capture.
As for this community we’ve built together—thank you.
Truly.
Some of you have been here for years. You’ve supported my work, read my writing, listened to me speak, shared your own stories, and trusted me with deeply personal parts of your lives.
That trust means more than I can fully put into words.
I’ve always tried to create a space that feels human, inclusive, thoughtful, and grounded—a place where people from all backgrounds can come together and have real conversations without judgment.
That doesn’t change.
It won’t change.
If anything, I hope this simply allows me to continue showing up more fully and more honestly.
At the end of the day, I’m still the same guy.
Still passionate.
Still imperfect.
Still learning.
Still growing.
Still trying to help where I can.
Still me.
And for the people who’ve supported me, encouraged me, and stood by me—thank you.
For those who may see me differently after this, that’s okay too.
I’ve reached a place in life where I understand something deeply:
Not everyone is meant to walk with us forever.
And that’s alright.
I choose honesty.
I choose peace.
I choose authenticity.
And most importantly—
I choose to keep moving forward.
As always… thank you for being here.
— Michael
Navigating Daily Life: Health, Personal Growth, and Pride Month Reflections
Navigating Daily Life: Health, Personal Growth, and Pride Month Reflections
Ever have one of those days where you feel like you're fighting the world just to get the basics done? Some days are a total grind, but others are a win because you finally got some sleep and found your groove. It's all about those small victories, like checking off a long to-do list even when things go sideways.
I'm Michael from "Hello Cupcake, It's Me." If you're new here, I do Wednesday check-ins to keep things real. You can find my podcast at podcast.hellupcakeitsme.com, catch me on TikTok Tuesdays, or read more at hellocupcakeme.com. I also wrote a book called Carpdscrotto 365 Daily Affirmations if you need some positivity in your life.
Today we're talking about the real stuff. I'm sharing my recent battles with doctors, the joy of making art, and some strong thoughts on Pride Month. Life is messy, and it's better when we talk about it openly.
A Busy Day of Healthcare Navigation
Healthcare can be a nightmare. I spent my morning on a rampage of appointments and errands. I saw a new psychiatrist and spent nearly two hours getting things sorted. Finding a mental health pro who actually clicks with you is a huge win. I'd give this new doctor a 98 out of 100. She's an intern, which means she helps with meds before sending you back to a primary doctor.
Then things got weird at the pharmacy. I went to pick up my insulin, but the doctor had cancelled the script. My pharmacy called me yesterday to ask if my dose was correct. I've been taking the same amount for almost a decade. I had to explain that I'm insulin resistant. I use a pump, but I need manual injections for severe corrections when my blood sugar hits 300.
The pharmacy finally understood, but the mistake meant another trip to the store tomorrow. With gas prices being so high, the last thing I want is more unnecessary driving. It's frustrating when you have to be your own advocate just to get life-saving medicine.
I'm also in a tough spot with my primary care physician. The doctor I've seen for ten years just retired. Now I'm a boy without a doctor. I have a couple of leads, but my first impressions weren't great. I was sick during those visits, so I'm giving them a second chance. I might even tell them straight up that my first impression was terrible, but I'm willing to try again.
I also reached out to a friend in Minnesota who is a doctor. We've been friends for over 20 years. We grew up together, from party college kids to professionals. I asked her about becoming a patient via telehealth. I trust her with my life, so that would be the dream scenario.
Finding Momentum Amidst the Chaos
Despite the medical drama, I feel like I crushed the day. I got my rent money order done, did some shopping, and handled my therapy session. There's a certain high that comes from being productive when you've been stuck in a rut.
At the time of this recording, it was 2:30 PM and I was still in my "Zoom attire." You know the drill: a professional shirt on top and boxers on the bottom. It's the official uniform of the home-office era. It keeps the professional image intact while staying comfortable.
I also wore a chunky necklace I made myself. I used some turquoise that a friend gave me. Some of it is real, some isn't, but it looks great against a black shirt. People have been giving me compliments on my style lately, and it honestly makes me feel good. The stone is a focal point and looks heavy, but it's actually pretty light.
The biggest win today was my mental bandwidth. For the last few days, I had zero energy to do anything. It felt like my brain was offline. Regaining that capacity to function is the best feeling. When you have the bandwidth, the chores and bills don't feel like such a mountain.
Celebrating Pride and Confronting Bigotry
It's June, which means it's Pride Month. I love seeing the flags and the stories of love in the LGBTQIA+ community. Reading about how couples meet and seeing allies show up is empowering. It's a beautiful time to celebrate authenticity.
But the hate is already showing up. It's only the third day of June and the anti-Pride posts are everywhere. I don't get why people care so much about who other people love. If you don't like gay or trans people, just stay over there in your own club. Let people live their lives.
What really makes me angry is the violence toward transgender people. I've read about at least three cases of people being murdered or publicly shamed. Seeing people post laughing emojis under news of these attacks is vile. They use dead names and try to argue about pronouns while someone is suffering. It's disgusting.
Some people try to claim that gay culture is "new," but that's a lie. History shows us it's always been here. In ancient Mesopotamia, Greece, and Rome, sexuality was fluid. In Egypt, it was as natural as breathing. These cultures understood and accepted it long before modern laws existed.
There's also a nasty trend of calling homosexuality "pedophilia." Those are two completely different things. In the past, "adults" were often just people who had hit puberty or could fight in a war. Pedophilia is a horrible crime involving children. Sexual orientation has nothing to do with it. Mixing the two is just a way to smear a community.
To anyone leaving hateful comments: do better. That person you're attacking is somebody's child. They are a human being deserving of respect. You have no say in how they live their best life. If you would treat your own child that way, you shouldn't be a parent.
Embracing Support and Inner Resilience
Even with the hate, the support is stronger. Seeing the community come together is a reminder that we aren't alone. The outpouring of love from allies is what keeps the momentum going.
If you're underage and still at home, and you're afraid to come out, please keep pushing. If you don't feel safe, know that it does get better. One day you will look back and be proud that you survived. The world needs your light and your strength. In a world full of "Karens," be the person who actually cares.
Remember that you're doing the best you can with what you have. Be proud of who you are and the life you've built. Whether you're coming out or just trying to survive a bad week, your existence is valid.
Final Thoughts
Life is a mix of medical headaches and creative wins. Managing your health takes a lot of work, and sometimes you have to fight for the care you deserve. Don't be afraid to speak up when a pharmacy or a doctor drops the ball.
Taking care of your mind is just as important as your body. Pay attention to your mental bandwidth. When you're burnt out, give yourself grace. When you find your spark again, use it to get things done.
Most importantly, choose kindness. Pride Month is a reminder to be authentic and to protect those who are targeted by hate. Respect is a basic human right, not a privilege.
Stay proud, keep fighting, and remember that you are enough. I'll talk to you all later. Bye everyone!
Navigating Life's Chaos
Navigating Life's Chaos: Understanding Traumatic Intelligence and Microaggressions
Ever had a week where everything that could go wrong actually did? Between a messed-up sleep schedule and a bank account glitch, some weeks feel like a test of your patience. But these chaotic moments often bring a chance to learn something new about how our brains work and how we treat other people.
The Week's Unforeseen Twists and Turns
My week started with a total blur. I stayed up until almost 3:00 AM binge-watching a show, totally losing track of the days. I thought it was Saturday night heading into Sunday, so I set my alarm for 9:15 AM. When I woke up at 10:30 and realized it was actually Saturday, I just gave up and went back to sleep for another hour and a half.
While I was awake, I spent a lot of time watching "Half Bad" on HBO. It is a slow UK show about two guys, Neil and Reuben, who are like brothers because their moms are dating. Reuben has a lot of anger and toxins in his life. It wasn't what I expected, and the episodes are long. It takes some real dedication to get through them.
Then came the financial mess. I was in the middle of a group therapy session when my phone started blowing up. Walmart Plus began trying to charge my account everywhere. It hit my bank, PayPal, and Capital One all at once. It even wiped out my PayPal balance.
The root cause was a mess. My mom's bank account had been hacked, and her card was shut down. Since she handles the membership, the system just started grabbing money from every linked source it could find. It was frustrating because that PayPal money was for something specific. Even worse, the stress happened right when therapy was getting good. By the time I fixed the glitch, I only had five minutes left in the session.
Quick Tip: Set up instant alerts on your banking apps. You should know the second a charge hits so you can stop a chain reaction before it drains your balance.
Understanding Traumatic Intelligence
During my writing this week, I found a concept called traumatic intelligence. This happens when someone lives in "fight, flight, or fawn" mode for a long time. It often comes from abuse or a major traumatic event in their past.
People with this kind of intelligence have a sharp eye for details. They can:
- Spot tiny micro-expressions on a person's face.
- Feel the energy of a room as soon as they walk in.
- Tell if someone is lying or hiding a bad mood.
Some people say this is just a survival instinct and not a "superpower." I disagree. Even if it comes from a bad place, being able to read people that well is still a powerful tool. Using these skills can help you understand the people around you on a deeper level.
Self-Reflection: Think about times you knew someone was upset before they said a word. This heightened sensitivity might be a survival skill you built years ago.
The Subtle Art of Microaggressions
I love people-watching at bars or restaurants. I use my knowledge of mental health to see how people interact. This is where I notice microaggressions. These are small, often unintentional actions that send a mean or biased message to someone else.
I remember a story from a year ago. A guy at a bar was complaining that some women "bitched him out" in the hallway. He said he was just adjusting himself and said "hello" to them as he looked up. To him, it was nothing. To the women, he was essentially grabbing his crotch and shaking it at them.
He didn't mean to be creepy, but that doesn't matter. The impact is what counts. You can't tell another person how they should feel about something you did. I tried to explain this to a group of men, but many of them didn't get it. They focused on their intent. I told them they needed to focus on the perception instead.
To avoid this, keep these points in mind:
- Be aware of your body language in shared spaces.
- Remember that your intent does not erase the impact.
- Listen when someone tells you that your action felt wrong.
Navigating Personal Challenges and Growth
Life isn't always a peak or a valley. Sometimes it is just a flat line of day-to-day depression. I'm not in a deep hole right now, but I still feel that heavy pull. It is that feeling where you know it is a beautiful day outside, but you just can't bring yourself to leave the house.
I also have to deal with physical pain. My back is a mess, and my legs feel out of alignment. It is hard to focus on mental health when your body is screaming. My goal for next week is to finally get to the chiropractor. Getting the body in alignment often helps the mind feel more stable.
Actionable Tip: Don't ignore physical pain. Chronic pain can make depression feel worse. Schedule that appointment now so you don't push it off again.
Holding Space for Difficult Interactions
Recently, I had to "hold space" for someone I really don't like. We have a very rocky history. Holding space means listening to someone without judging them or trying to fix them. It means letting them feel their feelings, even if you disagree with them.
I told this person that everyone in the room has a different version of them in their head. You might think you are a great person, but to someone else, you might be the villain. Part of healing is accepting that you are a different person to different people.
We talked for about 45 minutes. It wasn't a "good" talk, but it was a necessary one. They asked how I knew all this. I told them it came from my own healing and studying mental health. After they left, I felt sick and cold inside. It took a lot of energy to stay neutral and kind.
However, I feel like I passed a test. I proved to myself that I can be supportive and understanding toward someone who has hurt me. That is a huge step in my own growth.
Understanding things like traumatic intelligence and microaggressions helps us move through the world with more empathy. It teaches us to be mindful of how we touch the lives of others. Whether it is holding space for an enemy or recognizing our own survival skills, every interaction is a chance to grow.
Since it is June and Pride Month, remember to just be yourself. People will adjust. In a world full of "Karens," be the person who actually cares about others.
If you have questions about mental health or want to share your own experience with these topics, leave a comment below. I would love to hear your thoughts. Keep doing the best you can with what you have.













