This sh*t got me in my feelings.
I am not alone. I am loved. These feeling will pass. Last week I wrote these words on a Post-It Note and fell asleep tightly gripping it after dosing myself with Benadryl. I woke several hours later my right hand still curled into a fist around the paper, with the hope that osmosis would make them truths. I have felt desperate, lonely and sad — confined to an inner torture chamber of destructive thoughts. I have been terrified that I somehow reentered the full expression of my PTSD and afraid to even speak those words to others. I’ve acknowledged that in these situations, you have to be real with it….
Pardon my dust (it’s not snortable). Please check back for exciting updates about the publication of these essays in an anthology concerning my experience with the treatment of PTSD using MDMA psychotherapy.


