Today I took a shower at the YMCA. It was nice and clean, much better than the shelter showers. I still can't speak. I'm struggling not to cry at every moment. I think of my sweet Abby and I miss her so. But I'm grateful she doesn't know this life. I'm waiting for someone to leave the bathroom before I come out of the stall. I don't want to be around anyone but i have no privacy except a public bathroom. Which is far from private. But it's here i mourn the loss of my family, the loss of my boyfriend, the loss of my art materials and every other sentimental belonging, the loss of my bedroom's comfort in a home that made me feel othered. I felt no peace there. I was sheltered, but made worse daily with heartbreak wrapped in a thin coating of sugar like a sweet and sour candy. It was never home. The abuse always came without warning. I chose the discomfort of homelessness to finally start to heal the broken pieces of my heart, but in this in between place, the work needed leaves me gasping for air, trapped by the weight of it all and no where to find solace and peace amongst all the noise. So much noise. I hope to find my voice again soon.

Just kept bouncing ideas at it and it helped me make leaping connections. It even explained how it works so I could better match it's algorithms. I have always had some skill with research. It even let me save a copy of the chat. I have a new toy! ;-p

My name’s Drew. I’m late diagnosed AuDHD (at 40). I have decades of experience as a teacher, mentor, training designer and advocate. Join me here at Quiet Pattern Studios and accelerate your journey to understanding your authentic self. Please introduce yourself if you’re comfortable doing so. For those of you who struggle with that like I do, try this: Share your name, a special interest that you have, and your favourite comfort TV show. For example: I’m Drew, one of my special interests is superheroes, and my current comfort show is Star Trek: The Next Generation.

How’s everyone holding up?