May 15, 2026 7pm

Not a continuance of the chaos of yesterday. This is clarification after some desperately needed sleep. And yes I realize my need to clarify and explain is a trauma response. I will still write this follow up blog because I don’t want to be thought of as unhinged or crazy. My inner circle is small enough without alienating even more of the human population.

In my life I have made a lot of choices. Many were “lesser of two evils” choices, but if I didn’t choose, then one was made for me. I learned that it’s best to decide and prepare for survival, than to be blindsided. And it gave me an independent, stubborn, control freak personality. Like, obsessively. If something was out of my control then I would have a break down. Kind of like yesterday’s blog post. I used to write it all in a private journal. The world never saw my internal struggles, only one of my masks.

I don’t know why I stopped doing that. It was therapy, in a way. The last time I remember making a journal entry was in the first year I lived in Texas. Journaling used to be so important to me… I even took my old journals with me when I moved to Texas. Those journals met a fiery end in the burn pile. Because I was not that foolish girl anymore. She, who wrote of past relationships and heart breaks, future dreams, dreams that ended… Texas changed her and not for the better. Texas was over 7 years of constant break down. I honestly don’t know how I survived it.

So yes, I do know what it’s like to try letting go of the past. I thought by burning the journals  I could somehow start a new chapter. I thought I had found the person I was going to grow old with. The one who would stand by me no matter what. Someone I could finally lean on, instead of being the one people always leaned on.  Got a hell of a wake up call there, didn’t I? Once again, I trusted someone with vulnerability, and was repaid in the worst way. Chalk it up as one more failure in my life of failures.

For awhile I became mean and bitter, pushing everyone to the fringes of my life. After all, the common denominator in the past failures was me… so it must be that I am the problem, right? Not necessarily true, but I did play a part in my own destruction. I should have trusted my intuition that kept insisting I dig below the surface and see what was under their masks. But I was just so fucking grateful for any scraps of “love” thrown my way that I ignored all the signs.

I probably need professional help to work through all my past trauma. However, that isn’t free. I don’t have health insurance, and I can’t afford to pay out of pocket. In the US we don’t have universal health care for everyone. We have to get an insurance provider either through our job or private insurance, for an extortion level monthly fee. And then there are copays and out of pocket premiums we have to pay before insurance will cover most things. A system designed to make big pharma rich and kill off those of us who can’t afford to pay.

That’s why I self medicate for my autoimmune condition. I’m taking supplements and trying to make lifestyle changes but it’s like sticking a bandaid on a gaping wound that needs stitches. That’s why I owe about $30,000… for when I was in the hospital with pneumonia. I worked for a week with pneumonia because I couldn’t afford to take time off, and I couldn’t afford to go to a doctor. It literally almost killed me. I’ve had other Americans say to me, “Oh only $30,000? That’s not that bad at all.” At my job I make $32,000 a year. Four days of medical treatment costs me a year of salary. Does that put it into perspective for everyone?

And here I am, 20 plus years into chronic pain and autoimmune disease, a life time of ADHD… and now the insult of perimenopause. All without treatment. So yes, the chaos will continue. But I will try to refrain from subjecting this blog to most of it. No promises.

As for the other matter… him. It is a situation that is out of my control. And I have to be okay with that, with never getting closure, an explanation etc. It’s difficult to let go of the control, the need to know… but I have to. Eighteen months of silence is the only answer I have been given.

I’ve walked away from toxic relationships and friendships many times before. But the situation with him was not that way. He was the only person  (aside from my bestie, my daughter and a very few family members), that showed me kindness. Without expectation of repayment. Without an ulterior motive. Without trying to control or change me.

He made me feel safe. That’s not something I’ve felt much at all. My intuition told me he could be trusted, and I still believe that. The way he treated me was what was needed in my life… and could never find. He has been the only man (without familial obligation) to treat me with genuine unconditional kindness.  Is it any wonder I am destroyed and chaotic after losing that connection, no matter how small our interactions were? I know what I need and deserve… Hizumi showed me that. And just as surely, I know I will never experience it again as long as I remain in this country of my birth.

If this voice of mine could still sing I would… but all I have left are written words. I wish for way out of this country. To move somewhere that I can get treatment (without soul crushing debt) for my conditions. Somewhere that I can feel safe and content. Somewhere I can venture out into nature and not have to carry a knife for protection against other humans. Somewhere that I don’t have to push beyond my physical endurance day after day just to exist. Somewhere I don’t have to work in a detrimentally stressful environment to pay bills. Somewhere I can begin truly living. Am I asking for too much?

I don’t know if that kind of place exists for me. I just know that if I ever truly escape, I will never step foot on US soil again. However, I will never be able to afford to leave, so I will remain here until the last breath I take. Then I will finally be truly free.