Episode 25 – This Blog Is My Therapy, My Record and a Bit of a Wild Ride

You ever find yourself living through something so ridiculous, so absurd, so heavy with drama that if you wrote it into a book, people would call it unrealistic? Yeah, that’s me right now.

Family stuff.
The kind of messy, jaw-dropping, greed-soaked nonsense you’d expect from a Netflix true crime doc or a high-stakes soap opera. Greed where there should’ve been love. Betrayal where there should’ve been loyalty. And enough plot twists to make the priest drop his rosary beads.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, here I am.
Typing.
Posting.
Documenting.

Not for pity.
Not to keep score.
But because this space right here? It’s my therapy.
It’s where I untangle the knots in my head and heart.
Where I write down the unbelievable because if I don’t, I swear one day I’ll convince myself it was just a weird dream.

This is my digital diary, my therapy couch and my collection of receipts all rolled into one.
It’s where I process, vent, laugh, cry and remind myself that no matter how messy the outside world gets, I’m still here. Boots on, soul intact, wit sharper than ever.

And honestly if you’ve been through family drama, you know the loneliness of it. The moments where you start doubting your own memory.
The gaslighting. The whispers. The masks people wear so convincingly you start to wonder if it’s you that’s lost the plot.

So, this is also a record.
Not for revenge.
Not for spectacle.
But for truth.

Because stories like these need telling.
Not to dwell but to heal.
Not to shame but to shine a little light on the things families sweep under lace curtains and polite conversations.

And maybe, just maybe, someone out there is reading this, sitting in their own storm and thinking ‘Oh my God… me too‘.
If that’s you, I see you.
I get it.
You’re not imagining it.
And no, it’s not your fault.

So welcome to my little corner of the internet.
Sometimes it’s heavy.
Sometimes it’s sassy.
Sometimes it’s soft, sometimes sharp.
But it’s always honest.

This is my therapy, my record and one day when the dust settles , my proof that I made it through. And maybe even laughed along the way. If you’re here, you’re part of it now. And trust me, it’s a wild ride.

Lesson of the Day:

Your story is valid, even if it makes other people uncomfortable.

You’re allowed to document it.
To process it.
To laugh at the madness and mourn the mess.

Because healing isn’t always pretty.
Sometimes it’s loud, sassy, sarcastic and messy as hell.
But it’s yours.

And one day, the very things that broke your heart will be the reason someone else feels a little less alone.

Tell your story. Loudly, quietly, in fragments or full chapters but tell it.