Today was one of those days where I woke up already fragile. I didn’t have it in me to pretend, to socialize, or to “be okay,” and I realized how much living in this house drains me. I talked about feeling ignored 80% of the time and attacked the other 20%, and how that shapes the way I move, rest, and try to heal.

I reflected on how much I’m trying to change my life—even when it feels like the more I work on myself, the worse things get—and how tired this year has made me. I admitted I needed rest, and I let myself have it.

I shared the small wins, the plans for tomorrow, the art, the workbook, the content I need to film, and how I’m planning December and next year even while feeling emotionally thin.

And I ended by admitting something hard but true: it still shocks me that someone can listen to me in these states and love me without punishment. That matters more than I can explain.