Welcome
I didn’t build this blog because I have answers.
I built it because I’ve spent a lot of my life walking around with invisible fractures — the kind that don’t show up on X-rays but ache in your chest, your thoughts, your sleep, your parenting, your faith, your sense of who you even are anymore.
This is the place I set down the pieces.
I live with a mind that runs hot and loud, a body that hurts more days than not, and a past that still clears its throat in the quiet moments. I’ve known addiction. I’ve known collapse. I’ve known what it feels like to be holding your life together with duct tape and prayer while still being expected to show up as “normal.”
I’m also a mother. Which means I love like my ribs are made of glass and my heart lives outside my body. It means I carry guilt in one pocket, hope in the other, and exhaustion in my bones — and I’m still learning how to mother myself at the same time.
On this blog, I’ll write about mental illness, addiction, chronic pain, trauma, faith, doubt, and the strange art of surviving yourself. There will be poetry. There will be confession. There will be posts that wander and posts that bleed a little.
Mostly, there will be truth.
If you landed here because you feel like your life doesn’t fit inside tidy sentences…
If you’ve ever been “too much,” “not enough,” or “hard to love”…
If you’ve ever stared at the ceiling at 3am wondering how you’re still breathing…
You’re not alone in that room anymore.
This blog is for the ones still standing, even if standing looks like sitting on the bathroom floor with your back against the tub. It’s for the ones rebuilding quietly. For the ones learning how to live inside their own skin again.
I’m really glad you’re here.
— Kris Crawford
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