New counselor

Ok, so tonight is huge.

Got a new counselor, something I’ve been meaning to follow through with since August, and it’s the first time I’ve been in the right place. Not location (even though I’m terrible with directions).

Since the trauma from growing up, high school, and the rapes; I haven’t told the full story to any doctor or counselor. When I was first raped, I talked to a later counselor about friend drama. When I was diagnosed, I talked to my counselor about my wavering sexuality. I tried to talk to partners about the rapes and usually ended up telling random people while drunk about the traumas or my sexuality. Nothing’s ever lined up in my life that I was able to linearly explain my life to a counselor, using direct language, and while in a decent headspace with life that I wasn’t lying to cover a severe depressive episode.

Tonight happened and I couldn’t feel stronger than this. I told her about my current work and amazing coworkers, struggling with the panic disorder and depressive mood swings, my bisexuality and dating history, the rapes, the promiscuity following, the celibacy, the diagnosed years, the moving to a new city, the family of mental health disorders, and the going about these stresses with friends instead of family.

She was extremely supportive and reassuring that I am a strong, independent person, regardless of how my family perceives me. She told me that I was experienced with my anxiety and was the first patient she’d received in a while who wasn’t in crisis, but was there to see her as a proactive measure. She made me feel smart and strong and like a survivor.

I left her office feeling thankful for her and justified of how I’ve handled things the past 10+ years. It’s a really good feeling to know you’re okay and will continue to make it.

Talking through everything tonight to her made me feel whole.


Red heart emoji playlist

I made a playlist on Spotify that is under the red heart emoji. It’s my self love playlist for all the moments I feel love for myself.

Like Friday night when I got so drunk with coworkers then Ubered to Connor’s house and had sex with a guy for the first time in 2 years. And when he stopped and sent me home midway through because he said I was too drunk just before I unloaded the rape stories and how he was my first in 2 years and all the other trauma related word vomit I could erupt in that moment. I’ve heard from him since, somehow couldn’t scare him off, or he just wants sex and can ignore the other stuff.

Also I regret going home this weekend. It was nice to see family but I really just needed to be alone. I felt distance and irritable and had no appetite and could just feel the emptiness creeping in.

My first counseling appointment is this Thursday. It’s shocking to me how much I don’t know what to do with myself now that sex is back in my life. Like how I keep forgetting how strong I’ve convinced myself I am. I have moments where I completely forget what person I’ve become since the rapes and the celibacy years and the dating different genders and coming out and working and moving and taking care of my silly brain.

I sound dramatic, but I know better than to take this lightly. No one knew for 7 years as I coped with my 2 rapes. Somehow I managed for 5 years without medication. Even within 2 years of celibacy, I found it almost impossible to get emotionally close to anyone. I feel like within all these years that I should’ve professionally faced my traumas at some point and I didn’t and so when things like sex start happening again, that I don’t know how to live as this new person and fall apart like last time.

I literally have no idea what I’m doing and I’m just hovered on the tip of another depressive episode. There’s things like exercise and friends and therapy and water and good food that I’ll do consistently this week to keep away the depression so yes, I know what to do.

Within all the fear and anxiety though, there’s also a lot of relief. I started the celibacy to detox myself from all the bad habits and self destructive behavior. It worked, and then I was too afraid to break the streak. I was too afraid I wouldn’t be able to control myself or that I’d be terrible or hurt even worse. So it became easier to just not have sex with anyone.

Breaking those 2 years reminds me of the Andrea Gibson quote/my foot tattoo; “Breathe deep and dive.”

Deep down I know that in order to continue past the trauma I would have to be able to start balancing sex in my life again instead of staying afraid of it.

And this is the self love I mean. Not the bubble bath self love, but the kind when I could be crying or depressed or panicking and all I can really manage is to calmly be thankful for making it this far and realizing that somehow I will get myself through everything else.

Take me home

His eyes though…

So I met a couple over Tinder recently who are bisexual and trans and we just all sort of clicked the minute we met. Cory moved down to Missouri for school and Trevor stayed here and while I messaged Cory, Trevor took me to a beer tasting festival and we drank and walked and met his friends and talked alone in the bleachers until it closed.

They’re both physically and emotionally attractive people and for the first time, I wanted to be with both of them. They’ve been in an open relationship for the past 2 years and are pretty experienced with it. I explained I’m open to the mindset, just never had a partner who was also willing to try it. Trevor explained to me last night how their relationship worked and how they were both seeking additional sexual and emotional relationships to have as a couple or independently (especially since Cory just moved again).

Sex is a weird progression for me and I feel like I’ve been all over the place over the last 10 years with nonconsensual sex to coping with too much sex to sex for power to sex for pleasure to a break from sex to celibacy out of fear to just queer sex to maybe accepting it’s still okay to sleep with men to realizing I don’t care what gender I’m with to moving past stereotypes and accepting that I like sex and I want it with multiple genders in multiple relationship forms and it’s okay to be fluid like that because it’s all for me in the end. That kind of weird progression that’s still developing.

The only thing I’m pretty confident about is that I don’t want to rush into a monogamous relationship at the moment. I’m comfortable with meeting people and sex, but I don’t want to be locked down to just one person again for a while.

It’s a super happy feeling.

Happy Birthday

My birthday is tomorrow and I don’t think there will be a birthday well-wish, present, or Facebook post that can top the text my mom just sent me, gender neutral pronouns and all.

Being loved exactly as I am is always my ultimate wish, every year. ❤



I’ve always loved windows from the vantage point of a bed. Even before the rape evening spent staring at his window blinds for 4 hours or more, I’ve always loved windows. They’re a comforting reminder of something more.

This is my current bedroom view and it’s by far my favorite in the world. Even before entering the room, the rainbows are reflected on our hallway hardwood. It’s beautiful and it makes me so happy to see it hanging there.

It’s been a busy weekend. Lots of blog posts and nostalgic venting via computer screen. There were also 2 dates, a race, 2 church services at 2 different churches, 1 free meditation class, and 2 hours worth of roommate bonding.

The first date was at 1:00 at the local pizza place where we both got beers and talked for 2 hours. She looked strikingly similar to Nicole but actually talked about her faith and need to find other queer Christian women to date. I like her, but we’re in similar places in that we don’t want to jump into a relationship anytime soon. I don’t think she even wants to hang out again until after her major career test in two weeks. However, on the date, she talked about the church she attends and invited me to check it out.

This morning I attended the 9:00 service at Clearview Church. About halfway through the Clearview service, I left and drove 6 minutes down the road to the Hope Church service at 10:00. She was a welcome team member at the door. I was a little horrified to be that person who shows up to her church, but I tried to remind my brain that she wasn’t the thing drawing me there. She told me about the church, but the thought of being surrounded by other queers was enough to get there and through the door. She was kind and I saw at least 5 queer people just on my way in and up the stairs.

By the time I took my seat, worship started and one of the lead pastors came to talk with me. She introduced herself and told me that a little less than half of the entire congregation was queer and out. Unexpectedly, my eyes teared up and I managed to tell her how excited I was to be there. She was so loving and welcoming.

So the service was amazing and I want to go to their small groups and services every Sunday and bingo night at the gay club in town and everything where I can be surrounded by queers.

The 5k race was great and painful and like every race ever, my time was 38 minutes, something seconds. No hard feelings, except I thought I was faster by now. Did get to see all my current running group friends and all my old running group friends. It felt good to have them so happy for me and so loving together.

The second date was after the race at 8:00 at Rosie’s in downtown Bloomington. She was gorgeous. I think I kept telling her that over the course of the night. We talked for hours at the bar, each having two drinks, then took a walk together around the block. Downtown Bloomington is okay for a short walk in the lighted areas, but isn’t safe for queer handholding so I just walked extra close to her.

I like both of them? I want to pursue the first in a friendly, grow on slow type of way, and I want to ask the second out again soon.

Honestly, I’m just beyond happy to have this church and the opportunities of queer people in the community as well as beautiful queer women to date.

I admitted to both dates that my label of “queer” or “bisexual” isn’t quite right. That I’m gay, I’m still just a little afraid to use the label. But already this weekend, I’ve openly repeated to myself the February 11 blog posts and that what happened that night was rape.

I’ve repeated to myself that I am gay. I’ve repeated that I have been raped. I’ve repeated that I love and accept myself. Those 3 statements are beyond hard to admit to myself and continue to process, but already I feel so free and so much relief.


iPhone – Timeline

July 7, 2018

December 12, 2016: I was diagnosed with Bipolar 2 and Panic Disorder

June 1, 2017: I came out to my family about having both disorders

December 31, 2017: I came out to my sister as bisexual

January 1, 2018: I came out to my parents as bisexual

July 6, 2018: I admitted to myself I’d been raped on February 11, 2011, I used the R word

July 7, 2018: I admitted to myself that I’m not bisexual, I’m gay



It’s a process and it’s always updating.


Me to my dad as he continued to talk over me: “YOU DON’T GET A VOICE. YOU DON’T GET A VOICE.”

Him: “I always like your natural hair better. Why did you have to dye it so reddish?”

*It’s not red, but with box dye (after a bad professional job that turned the back of my hair orange), it’s the closest I could come to my natural reddish brown color*

Him: “It looks like you have a worm in your ear.”

*Daith piercing, which I was extremely open and upfront about the purpose of getting it to help with my anxiety/panic disorder* He still doesn’t believe I have either disorder.

Him: “You know, I’ll always be willing to pay to have those tattoos removed.”

I got them so I could fucking cope with my world. My world of bipolar and ptsd and queerness and independence and anxiety.

I got them to fucking cope and none of these things are a joke to me. 

Everything he criticizes me about are all the things I’ve done to help myself, but I’ve tried to be as respectful as I can about them. My tattoos are mostly hidden, I don’t talk about my mental health openly anymore, my hair is always dyed a natural hair color (also for work), and I am fucking stable, always.

I just want, deep down, I just want my dad and mom to be proud of me. I want them to be proud of all of me, not just the things I’ve done and the independence/space I’ve created. I won’t get them to love the tattoos or hair dye or girlfriends I bring home or even accept that I’m gay. I really wish they would, but at the very least, I wish they wouldn’t openly tell me how disappointed they are. I wish they’d keep those comments, those thoughts, to themselves.

I dread hearing how much of me they don’t like.

iPhone – Exes

June 20, 2018

I miss Nicole. We broke up on February 24, 2018, and have barely talked since. I broke up with her and I don’t entirely regret it, I just miss her emotionally. I do regret not having complete sex with her, I really regret that.

Laura and I dated from May 19, 2018, to June 15, 2018. I couldn’t handle her with her chronic illness and intense clingy demands so she broke up with me.

After Laura

Laura and I broke up Friday morning, 4 days short of our 1 month anniversary. She did most the talking and seemed like she wanted to move past the Wednesday night no-call fuck up. I disagreed and asked for a break because, as I explained to her, I think I’ve been hypomanic for a few days.

Regardless, I’ve been off my medication for about a month now and have done nothing (supplements, exercise, counseling, yoga, diets, meditation) to cope. Literally, I’ve done nothing, I just keep putting it off because I’m busy. So now its kind of come to a head and I feel like I’m hanging on by a thread and it feels a little dangerous.

She took a breath, then asked what my coping mechanisms are because her mother has bipolar too and she has “already been through that pain and disappointment” and needs me to be “strong and a constant emotional support during these hard times with surgeries and the healing process the next few weeks” and I can’t be that. Without thinking about what I want, looking ahead, I can’t be that support because I’m not stable enough.

So she broke up with me. And it sucks. And like Nicole, I don’t feel like I’ll feel anything for a few weeks until it hits. Or maybe, since we only dated for a month I won’t feel much at all. But, we lost our final virginities to each other. I call it that because each of us did everything else with other partners, except giving oral sex, and scissoring was new to each of us too I guess.

I want to drink and have sex with gals (maybe go back to guys?) and figure out what living unstable is really going to mean.


I fucked up last night in the way that I was supposed to call you to give “emotional support” before your surgery, but I didn’t.

I texted you an apology and a question this morning about how the surgery went. You replied “hmu with a call sometime today or tomorrow.”

I feel like shit. Last night I almost puked when I read your text about how “disappointed/hurt” you are because I didn’t call to give “emotional support before a scary time” when I’d said that morning I would and it couldn’t just been a “quick call” instead of nothing.

Except, you don’t have “quick calls.” This is your 5th surgery in the past 5 years. You’ve got a chronic illness and there’s not a time in your near future when I think even you know you’ll be stable again. Not to say you’re going to die, just, you’re going to be in pain for a while. I feel guilty that I told you I could handle the fact that you are sick. I feel frustrated that just yesterday morning in your bed you hinted at wanting to tell me you loved me and wanting to hear it back.

It’s been 1 month, Laura. I feel frustrated with myself that I can’t handle what happening to you and so guilty that what I want most right now is to be left alone, not to call you or be in a relationship with you anymore. I fucked up last night by not calling and I don’t want to face that conversation, but I also don’t want to be in this constant state of apologizing.

But, you are pretty smart. I think you’ve figured this out, or else you really are so hurt that you’re giving me this space.

Like I said, I feel like shit. I also have a killer headache and an inability to sleep or eat. I’m pretty 98% positive I’ve been in a hypomanic episode since Tuesday. What I need to do is call you and talk to straighten this out. What I need is silence and space for a while to get back on track.

It’s been short and it feels like you and me have potential to be a lot of things. Mostly, I no longer want to feel like I’m suffocating. I don’t want to keep putting off my own self care for you and for our relationship so I could call you each night (1 hour minimum), and text you constantly, and it’s just too much stress.

I just want to be alone from everyone.