• Childhood Fears: Breaking Generational Cycles

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    My girls aren’t scared at night. At least, not like I was.  I noticed it a while back and honestly just felt relieved. But then it started to nag at me a little. They are like me in almost every other way — neurospicy, dramatic, opinionated, deeply weird in the best possible sense. So why weren’t they scared? Because I was absolutely, paralyzingly, down to my bones, terrified. Things lived under my bed. Things lived in every shadow. Things definitely lived in my closet. I knew this with complete certainty the way only a child can know something. I wasn’t allowed a nightlight because I needed to just “get over it.” So I developed a system instead. Every stuffed animal I owned lined the open…

  • PEM Symptoms: My Body’s Accounting Department Has No Mercy

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    There’s this thing called PEM — Post-Exertional Malaise. Fancy medical term for you only have so much energy and if you overspend, you’ll regret it for days. For me, PEM is the defining symptom of the ME/CFS that shadows my other diagnoses — the POTS, EDS, and MCAS that are all constantly fighting for control over my system. But frankly, most doctors treat it like a suggestion rather than a biological wall. How It Works For Me I have a teeny-tiny finite amount of energy every single day. We’re talking a strict, non-negotiable budget that does not roll over, does not accept credit, and absolutely does not care about your plans. Every single thing I do costs something. And when the budget runs out —…

  • Chronically Ill Parenting: An ADHD Crash Course for My Kids

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    My girls and I are neurodivergent which means routines, alarms, and mental stimulation are totally vital. If you don’t, everything dissolves into chaos, and the kids transform into feral little street urchins. And for a long time, I absolutely kicked ass at managing it. I used to keep the kids’ minds stimulated. On road trips, I had activities planned for every 30 minutes. Nothing crazy but they got a new mini coloring book, book to read, a small toy, or we played a new game. At home, we cooked together, played games or activities like indoor obstacle courses made out of masking tape, and set up our kiddie pool and sprinklers for them in the backyard. I used alarms and routines to get us everywhere…

  • Brain Fog and Decision Paralysis: When My Brain Won’t Brain

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    Why are decisions so hard sometimes? Story Time After I had my first C-section, the nurse told me to push the button every time the light came on so I did exactly what she told me to do. Light came on I pushed the button. Light came on I pushed the button. When I got to my room, they wanted me to eat something. I was vegetarian at the time and I’m looking at my choices: chicken broth or vegetable broth. By this point, I was so high I couldn’t figure it out. I knew there was only one right answer but which one? They took away my button and chastised me for hitting it too much. Hey! I just followed the directions exactly as…

  • My POTS Diagnosis Story

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    I have a very weird medical chart, but if I had to pick the most exhausting symptom to explain to a stranger, it’s the fact that my body is actively allergic to standing up. Seriously. My body hates gravity. Most people take standing up for granted. You roll out of bed, you stand at the sink to brush your teeth, you walk to the mailbox. Your brain and your heart have a nice, quiet convo, your blood vessels constrict, and your blood pressure stays exactly where it belongs so you don’t pass out. My body missed that memo entirely. And the roots of this gravity battle go all the way back to 2015. Granted, I wasn’t officially diagnosed with POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome) until…

  • Autistic Masking: The Emotional Off-Switch

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    I was watching Harlots when I had a moment that stopped me cold. Harlots is an absolutely fascinating Hulu series about rival 18th century brothels and the women fighting to survive them. Totally interesting take, you should check it out.  Anywho, there’s a young girl named Lucy. She’s maybe 14, 15. She’s grown up in this life, her mother is a madam of one of the brothels. She sold her virginity maybe a week ago, give or take. Or maybe longer. Honestly it’s hard to tell time within the show. Or maybe that’s just me… *sigh* ADHD time-blindness is so real. She’s with a client and she’s struggling. Afraid to look. Afraid to move. Just frozen in something she clearly doesn’t want to be doing….

  • My hEDS Diagnosis Story

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    I was a bendy kid. I could do a backbend and walk my hands all the way back to my feet until my body made an O. I mostly sat with my legs in a W on the floor. So comfy. I would also sit with my legs tucked behind my head like a pretzel. I slept in a kind of child’s pose every night, but legs in a W and hands curled inward tucked under my chin. Just how my body wanted to be. I thought I was just built different. Cool, even. My body could do things other kids’ bodies couldn’t, and nobody told me otherwise, so I filed it under fun party tricks and moved on. Nobody mentioned hypermobility. Nobody mentioned Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome….

  • Mom Guilt, Chronic Illness, & The Mom I Pictured

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    Sometimes I feel like a failure.  I was going to be the mom I always pictured. Suzy Homemaker, you know? Doing art or science projects, fun scavenger hunts, and going to nature parks and playgrounds. Throwing DIY, Pinterest-worthy parties. Making dinner every night and fabulous holiday meals. Making their lunches with cute little shapes and fun notes. Making bread and pies from scratch. The Mom I Pictured Am I that mom? I was. We did a few full-on art and science projects every week. Played games or cards every day. We went to playgrounds or nature parks a few times a month. Side note: this is FL and it’s too damn hot — on that one I was dreaming. Threw Pinterest worthy parties that I…

  • The Misdiagnosis Pipeline

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    Trigger Warning: This post briefly mentions self-harm and suicide. I have been diagnosed with ADHD, bipolar disorder, MDD, GAD, OCPD, and PMDD. Oh, and I’m autistic. Collectively, that alphabet soup of a list isn’t a brag. It’s a warning label about what happens when the medical system doesn’t see the forest through the trees. It’s a cautionary tale of how many wrong turns a person can take when nobody knows how to look at the whole picture. Let’s start at the beginning. The Five-Year-Old Twirler I was five years old when I was diagnosed with ADHD combined type. Couldn’t focus, couldn’t sit still, stood up randomly to twirl at my desk then sat back down like nothing happened. The diagnosis is right but incomplete. I was…

  • Medical Gaslighting: Why I Had To Become My Own Doctor

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    Why do doctors go to medical school? Apparently, so I could diagnose myself. Let me tell you what doctors spend at least eight years learning: That’s it. Hey! I guess you’re a doctor now too. Congratulations! *rolls eyes* Our healthcare system is designed to solve single-symptom problems on a corporate assembly line. But human beings — especially neurospicy, chronically ill human beings — don’t work that way. We are a beautiful, complex tapestry. Conditions like hEDS, POTS, and MCAS weave across your entire body, affecting your brain, your joints, your sensory processing, and your hormones all at once. But doctors? They only ever look at one single thread at a time, try to “solve” it in a fifteen-minute appointment, and call it a day. Can’t…