Blog

Living with a progressive disorder is like attempting to balance on a tightrope, where every step feels shaky and the ground keeps shifting beneath you. I often grapple with the harsh truth that my body is no longer the reliable vessel it once was, and hasn't been for quite some time. With progressive disorders, change is the only constant. Every morning, I wake up filled with a mix of hope and anxiety. I hope today will be manageable, yet dread what it could bring. Daily, my

A reflection on how “check in on your loved ones” became something we say after it’s too late. This piece confronts performative mental health, empty slogans, and the uncomfortable truth about who shows up, and when.