On the Bridge

 Friday, February 27, 2026 — 10:46 PM

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I haven't been feeling well all day. I'm trying to hang and be normal, but inside there is a storm. A storm of emotions, pain, chemicals, traumas, etc.

I just need peace. I made a choice to solidly stay home. Get better.

Originally, my idea was to use my healing toolbox with EMDR, breathing, grounding, etc., and still continue to do life until my mind catches up with my body. That hasn't been working.

I need respite. I’ll be solidly staying home and working with my self-healing tools. No outside activities aside from my tent in the front yard and my hammock time in the park. I need to really let my body and mind completely stop spinning.

I hate this.

It feels like I'm actually on the bridge between normalcy and whatever this is, but more so on the opposite side of healing, slowly heading that direction. I've been here before. I got through this before. I can do it again.

I'm just glad I still have my father. He's going through his stuff.

We hugged for a good amount of time. We both thought the same. He said it before I was able to: “Hang in there. We both have to hang in there for each other.”

The limbs were down. No more bird sh*t. So much bird poop. I'm not going to miss it. At least I won’t catch my father on a ladder trying to cut the limbs down again.




Cleaning the car is on the list of things I need to do around the house. I’ll do them not just as a task, but as therapy.

I know exactly when everything flipped — the moment my dad came out of the room with his phone and said the words, “Leilani is gone.” I didn't know how powerful those words would be. I didn’t know her loss would be this great. Maybe it is reopening the wound I still have from losing my mom. But that was the moment.

It’s been a process. Looking back at old blog entries — not that long ago — the one that stands out, the one that started a kind of a snowball effect, was the entry titled Leilani Is Gone.

Revisit: Sunday Mourning

And I know this whole hypervigilant, dissociation stuff is my body — or my mind and body — trying to protect me from further pain, whatever it is they think they’re protecting me from.

But hey, mind and body, y’all are being a little overbearing. I don’t need this much protection. I need to come back down to earth already.

I don’t even drink or do drugs. Nothing chemical for recreation. Yet my own body is sending me into this distorted state of mind.

I’m looking forward to using this drink powder mix that helps with mood. It has vitamins and minerals that support brain function and mood. It helped before. I previously ordered it online, but I know they carry it at Sprouts. I need it ASAP.



Read previous entry: What Happens In Vagus

I'm not well. I'm going to try using some ice packs tonight — on my chest, on my head, on the back of my neck — to calm down, to cool down. I'm going to try to be in prayer. I'm going to try to relax. Hopefully I wake up tomorrow and feel a little bit normal.

If you're reading this and you're right with God, please send a prayer up for me.

We’re not perfect. None of us are. But we come to Him right.

It starts with asking for forgiveness of your sins and being ready to forgive others. That’s the Our Father: “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name.”

Prayers would help. And thank you. I'm not well.

We always say, “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”
Well, I’m here. Time to cross it.

Trying to make it to the other side of all this.


Read most recent entry: Alignment Before Prayer

Our Father Prayer

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name.

Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one.

For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen.

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