do you ever feel like you are just really going through it, but you don’t know what it is yet?

i feel like some giant cat out there in the cosmos is kneading my brain and trying to rearrange everything. idk exactly what’s going on, and it doesn’t feel…exactly bad? but i feel a need to be sort of still and silent while i sort through my thoughts. stay tuned for more while the space cat and i get things in order.


the weather today was about as mild as it’s been all summer. i almost didn’t go to the beach. it’s my last of five days off, and at just under 80 degrees (with a water temp under 60) i wasn’t sure it would be warm enough. when i got there, it was still cool enough to leave my hoodie on and walk along the water, and at 10:45am, only surfers were in the waves. soon enough, as always, children followed.

i waded in up to mid-calf — the depth that always lets me feel like i’m “part of it” without getting too chilly — sure that it would be one of those days that only those 13-and-under would make the plunge. there’s just something about kids, you know? no matter the season, they play the hardest; they can withstand the coldest waves in the summer and the longest snowball fights in the winter months.

then, i looked to my left. about twenty feet down the shore was an older man, probably in his eighties, also standing calf-deep in the water. but he wasn’t standing still. he kept moving forward at a steady pace, straight into the ocean. once his waist was submerged, he did what almost looked like the very last part of a sun salutation for a few moments and then dove into the water. he disappeared for a second or two before reappearing and floating on his back. i looked away, then went in just a few feet deeper.

i have a lot of old emotional injuries. i’ve healed from them in many ways, or outgrown the need to go as slow and be as tender, but i still tiptoe around myself a bit. i still only go in calf-deep much of the time when really, i could be fucking around with the abandon of a child.

yes, they have lower centers of gravity, they physically heal much more quickly, and they don’t have some of the hindsight that older people do, but there’s really no reason that at 35, or 55, or 85, i shouldn’t still be plunging into the ocean if that’s what i came there to do, temperature be damned.

fixing my bite

i’ve been getting headaches ever since i can remember. i’ve tried nearly every headache medication, i get botox for migraines, and my life should basically be sponsored by excedrin at this point. i’ve always joked that i’d pay any amount of money to get them to go away, but i didn’t really think i meant it. then, last october, i saw a dentist who just seemed to know everything about my history of pain just by looking at the way my body was aligned, the way my teeth fit together when i clamped my jaw shut, and he told me that by getting on an invisalign program specifically designed for me — to fix my bite, stop me from grinding my teeth, and fix my midline — my headaches would stop, or at least greatly decrease. at first it felt like a sales pitch, and in some ways, it was, but he also just knew what the fuck he was talking about.

he sent me to an orthodontist who specializes in tmj for a consultation, and when they confirmed that they could stop my pain to the tune of a few thousand dollars, i didn’t even think twice. i just…handed over my credit card. and on the train home, i knew i had to get a divorce.

those things might seem disconnected, but in making that decision without even talking to my then-husband (we didn’t share our money, so i would never have asked for permission, but i think most folks at least talk over the decision to spend thousands of dollars with a spouse) i realized a few things.

one of those things was that i wasn’t really planning for a future anymore, or at least not a long-term future, because the repression i’d been feeling about my sexuality as a queer person had started looming so large that i couldn’t see beyond the next month or so. yes, my depression has roots beyond the fact that until late last year, i’ve never been fully out, but the two were tangled in such a way that walking through life felt like i had 15 pound weights on my ankles all the time. the only thing i cared about, at that point, was making my day-to-day life more bearable, and if spending the majority of my savings on some plastic shit to put in my mouth would do it, then that’s what i was going to do.

i also realized that while i had previously been earmarking much of that money for a specific kind of future — one with my husband, and some hypothetical kids — i was finally ready to admit that wasn’t what i saw anymore, and ready to choose something more selfish, instead. choosing to spend that money on something that might (and, nine months in, i can say definitely has) relieve pain i’ve dealt with my whole life was the first step in acknowledging i needed to make other, perhaps larger, pain-relieving choices.

about a week later, in couples therapy, i asked for an open marriage. soon after that, i realized what i really needed was for my marriage to end. though i know this came as a shock to my ex-husband, and felt like a sudden, selfish move, i also did it for him — i did and do care about him, and don’t want him to be with someone who can’t love him the way he deserves to be loved. he knows this, now, and we’re friends again (remarkably, it only took this long, and for that i’m grateful).

my last invisalign appointment is next week (at least, before the “refinement” stage, where the difference between trays is much smaller, and then once everything is all set, i’ll start only wearing them at night) and i’ve come a long way since october. i have fewer headaches, i’m much happier, i’m in love, and yeah, my teeth look okay, too.

whom up(state)

so i wrote a whole long thing about unpacking my suitcase as a ~metaphor but then i got tequila drunk and decided that’s not the mood

i’m on a press trip upstate for a sex toy company and they’re trying to make us as horny as possible for ~content but now i’m just in my cabin, horny and alone, like “WHOM UP(STATE)?”

well, i guess i’m not technically alone, i think there’s a cicada in my cabin, too

also, we’re not alone, because we can see the stars out here and i sweartogod we saw a UFO, it wasn’t a star and it wasn’t a plane

but anyway speaking of horny i am just hanging out in my cabin now, taking photos of myself in lingerie, and my butt looks too good right now to be wasted on the fireflies and the sasquatch outside my window, you’re only 31 and an idiot once

this is a terrible newsletter, sorry y’all ‾\_(ツ)_/‾


cw: mention of suicidal ideation

welcome to unwell. you can read more about what this is here, but in reality, it’s probably going to be as unfocused and rambling as everything else i do. i will write about how wellness is a non-linear thing and how being open about that, open about all the things that feel ugly and raw, is really the best tool in my healing toolbox. but the thing is that right now, there are a lot of other things on my mind, and there probably always will be, so this isn’t going to just be about wellness.

i also really want to talk about the new sleater-kinney, particularly the song “can i go on,” though i guess that’s technically kind of relevant, too. a song that sounds as upbeat as this one but with lyrics like “maybe i'm not sure / i wanna go on at all” feels parallel to the way many of my friends and i deal with our depression (and even suicidal ideation) — the aesthetic makes it easy to ignore what’s happening underneath. we’re often just going along, acting as though things are okay (or they may even be okay, or at least livable, for extended periods), but underneath there’s just this…hum, this question of whether it’s enough.

i also want to talk about how i’ve been eating this same sandwich for months when i’ve been sad as a way to make myself feel better (wheat bread turkey prosciutto cheddar mayo mustard crunched up salt and vinegar chips) and it’s a delicious fucking sandwich but now, when i want to eat it even when i’m feeling okay, i still end up feeling a little bit down because of the feelings i associate it with. i’ve pavlov’d myself out of one of my favorite meals, i guess.

i want to write about how i started making lists to deal with my adhd and it helps but now i literally have lists of my lists and damn, if i don’t need a better system.

i want to write about why the fuck can’t i keep a plant alive?

anyway. this isn’t what it will always be like. sometimes, i’ll write about a thing that’s bothering me. sometimes, i’ll write an anonymous love letter. sometimes, they won’t be so anonymous. sometimes, i’ll rant about a wellness PR email that’s actually triggering as fuck and thus, the opposite of wellness. one day, i’ll probably rate all the snacks in the kitchen at the office. who knows.

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