When I was 19 years old, I wound up in an abusive relationship. Kurt was 32 years old. He’d lived in multiple states. This really impressed me at the time. It was only later that I’d find out that he moved around because of legal trouble. And that he’d wound up living in Maine (where I grew up and where I met him) because Kurt had sought out his brother who had built a comfortable life for himself, » Read more
I keep meticulous records. It’s something I normally do very quietly and subtly. Most people don’t notice. Really, only if you’re living with me and are paying attention is it evident.
I’m told it’s a bit unnerving, like a therapist who’s writing with a fury while you spill your deepest and darkest secrets in session. » Read more
“Peoples once accustomed to masters are not in a condition to do without them.”
-Jean Jacques-Rousseau, Discourse on the Origin of Equality
The thing I loved about Kurt was what scared me most about him: I never knew which version of him I was going to get. » Read more
PTSD Is Like Grieving Your Own Death, Comforting Your Own Ghost
“You should really write fiction again,” Justin says.
I shudder. “Ugh. Why?”
He looks at me curiously. “Because you’ve got a hell of a brain. And your non-fiction is so good. It draws people in. Imagine what you could do with fiction.” » Read more
Today’s piece is a guest blog post from Matthew Shadrake.
Matt is a polyamorous switch and a big ole softie. He previously contributed “Firing a Gun Into a Dark Room: Strip Clubs, Sex Trafficking, and the Hidden Cost of Hedonism” to Poly.Land.
In addition to being a hell of a writer, » Read more
We all mess up from time to time. We’re human. And it can be especially hard getting called out when we make a mistake, doubly so when it’s by someone we care about. But if we do hurt someone we’re close to, it’s good for them to tell us so we can do better.
Except sometimes the criticism isn’t valid. » Read more
In September of 2000, I had a psychotic break that resulted in a 2-week stay on an inpatient psych ward after I spent nearly 10 days awake when I left my abusive boyfriend.
The real trauma started when I became lucid and began to heal enough to be discharged home with my parents. » Read more