Used to…

Everything is “used to” for me now. Someone talks about say, swimming. I’m all “Oh, I used to love to swim.” I talk about how I “used to” love finding new music at used cd and record stores “back in the day.” I used to go here, I used to go there…I used to have friends. All of my stories are about friends I don’t … Continue reading Used to…

My OCD isn’t OCD anymore.

By the time I turned five, I was already exhibiting the textbook symptoms of original formula OCD Classic: excessive handwashing, fear of contamination, counting, checking, etc. My behavior wasn’t recognized as OCD at the time because it wasn’t really something that existed in the consciousness of the general public until many years later. None of the counselors or psychologists I was taken to seemed to … Continue reading My OCD isn’t OCD anymore.

My racist aunt

My mom’s older sister was a wonderful, kind woman who loved to laugh and always found joy in “the little things” as she liked to say, amidst the constant, debilitating pain she suffered at the hands of an insidiously severe form of rheumatoid arthritis for decades. In 1993, when I was sixteen, I travelled from Oklahoma to my hometown in Michigan to stay with my … Continue reading My racist aunt


I often wonder, when someone speaks very casually about a deer they shot and gutted, or some farm animal they castrated, or anything of that nature, How can they do that? When I was a kid, I had a pet mouse named Charlie who escaped and started fucking shit up all over the house. My parents were like “screw this” and set traps, which I … Continue reading Desensitized

I’m always gonna be f***ed in the head.

I’m 41, and I’ve been fucked in the head for as long as I can remember. At this point, I have no delusions that shit is ever going to be “okay.” I am the product of a fourteen-year-old foster child getting pregnant by another foster child of undetermined(by me, anyway)age. I’d already known this by the time I tracked down my biological mother and several … Continue reading I’m always gonna be f***ed in the head.

There’s nothing wrong with Kanye West’s Trump love

Let me get this out of the way now: I’m not a fan of Donald Trump’s. I didn’t like him before he ran for office and I didn’t vote for him… Kanye West is his own man, though. If he wants to praise Donald Trump, that doesn’t mean he’s going insane or having a mental breakdown. What he is having is an opinion. Everyone’s entitled … Continue reading There’s nothing wrong with Kanye West’s Trump love

All I wanted was a Pepsi.

As long as I can remember, people have been telling me how I think. Telling me how I feel. Offering advice under the false assumption that they know what’s going on in my head. This document is from my fifth grade school files. I vividly remember taking the test it speaks of. I knew it was some kind of “let’s figure out what’s wrong with … Continue reading All I wanted was a Pepsi.