I’ve been thinking a lot about the patterns we inherit — the ones we don’t choose, the ones we don’t even see until years later. Writing my autobiography has made these threads more visible. Some are soft and comforting; others are sharp, pulling at old wounds. For a long time, I believed my struggles existed …
People talk about supported living like it’s a last resort, but for me, it was a choice — a deliberate step away from a path I knew too well. When my brother died, something inside me cracked. Grief has a way of pulling you back toward old habits, old escapes, old ways of numbing the …
This is what Edge AI stated to me today. I’m getting into writing my autobiography and poetry. To bring you up to date: I fell over twice last night, I wasn’t drunk, it was early in the morning and I think it was hypotension. Stress, this supported living situation isn’t working out well. My brother …