some bits and crumbs from past and present
As I write this, I’m sipping a Sir Davis Old Fashioned and daydreaming about peak-season heirloom tomatoes. Doesn’t that sound yum, lovey? I could write an entire blog about my love for heirloom tomatoes—my 34th birthday was even tomato-themed.
Isn’t it wild that I’m 34?
Truthfully, I’m still somewhere back in 2023.
I’m still processing what happened to me in 2023…and 2024.
It’s not easy to sum up everything that happened, and honestly, I haven’t really talked about it much. A lot of it was overwhelming, and I think I’ve just been taking it day by day, trying to keep moving forward.
But lately, I’ve been realizing how important it is to acknowledge it—to look back a bit, not to dwell, but to understand.
I don’t know. I’m applying for jobs again, and I feel like I’m going to be asked about the gap in my resume. What can I say?
These past two years were traumatic—plain and simple.
In 2023, I had a manic episode that spun into full-blown psychosis. I lost touch with reality in a way that’s hard to explain unless you’ve lived it. I said things I deeply regret. I believed things that weren’t true. I scared people. I scared myself. And when it was over, I was left standing in the wreckage, trying to make sense of what I had done and what had happened to me. The shame was suffocating. The recovery—slow, uneven, and deeply humbling.
And then, while I was still trying to find my footing, the universe intervened once more.
My sister was in a motorcycle accident. A brutal one. The kind that stops time.
Watching someone you love go through that kind of trauma—physical, emotional, all of it—reshapes something in you. It makes you furious and fragile at the same time. The helplessness is its own kind of grief.
So now here we are—2025—and I’m still trying to make sense of everything. The mania. The psychosis. The hospital. The accident. The amputation.
I’m not writing from the other side of healing; I’m writing from the middle of it. And that’s the truth I keep returning to: I’m still processing what happened to me in 2023 and 2024. And that might take a while…I don’t know, lovey. Maybe it’s supposed to take a while.
My days are now heavily medicated. But for the first time in a long time, I feel like myself again—or maybe even better. Older. Wiser.
My life’s not perfect, and it’s definitely not easy—but there’s stability where there used to be chaos. There’s clarity where there used to be confusion. And that matters more to me than I can explain.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about my past lives. When I was younger, all I ever wanted was to be a social media manager for a big brand—and I achieved that, more than once. But now I find myself asking: what comes next? What now? Am I just a retired social media manager who now works in a bakery? No. I refuse for that to be it. I didn’t come this far just to come this far. You know? So, despite everything the past two years have brought me, I just want to make sure everyone knows: I am still THAT bitch. See you on LinkedIn…once I figure out what I am going to say about the gap in my resume ;)
Thank you for being here, reading and vibing with me. Shall I pour you another drink?
Xoxo—The Hoff
