It needs to be said . .

This is a brand spankin new blog and as time goes on, you'll learn more about me and what my home life is like. I have the tendency to over analyze things and have gone back and forth for hours, days, months, years . . whether I wanted to be really open and honest about my current situation. There are people that will read my vulnerability and raw emotions without good intentions and I don't want to be the victim of hate speech, bullying, criticism, etc.

But, we do need to talk about it. We need to be as honest as possible about our struggles. The risks are far greater if we don't. And, really, I've stopped caring about what people think of me. Maybe that's one of the perks of getting older and wiser. Either way, we're all individually responsible for how we treat others. We always need to keep that in mind. If you do decide to comment on any of my posts, please do so with kindness.

I've gone through almost all of it in my life. The trauma, the abuse. I suffer from like 8453 forms of anxiety, depression, ADD, OCD, PTSD, LMNOP . . you name it. It sucks but it is what it is, right? What doesn't kill us makes us stronger. Stupid cliches. Seriously though; what are you going to do? Shit still needs to get done. I don't have a sugar daddy, I don't live off the state or federal welfare system. I need to work. I've always needed to work.

Luckily for me, work is not work. It's fun and it's actually when I can really have some me time. Being a radio personality is the perfect career for someone that has had so many life experiences. It allows me the empathy and compassion needed to be incredibly dynamic and real on the air. They are the authentic, real life stories I tell that others may be able to relate to and often times recount to me in the future.

This is a story about a mentally fragile woman raising an abusive 10 year old with autism and how she finally cracked. Yes, I know . . blogs are so early 2000s. We have podcasts, but they seem like a lot of work, and frankly, I am too exhausted.

Not to mention . . A mental breakdown took my voice.

Ironic, isn't it?