Greetings, my lovely feral, dark, and bright ones.

We are officially seven days into the month of June, and let’s be entirely honest for a second: some days aren’t just about crossing things off a to-do list. Some days are about survival, rage, and drawing a massive, permanent line in the desert sand.

The theme lately? Protect the goddamn peace.

When you finally make the conscious decision to slice the cords on toxic garbage, block the emotional vampires, throw The Void and The Abyss completely out of your orbit, and permanently dump the drama straight into the Wastelandwhere it belongs, something massive shifts. You aren’t just cleaning house; you are reclaiming your own life. You are deciding who gets access to your energy, and the list of eligible candidates just got beautifully, brutally short.

Because here is the truth: a boundary doesn’t mean anything if you don’t build a fortress to back it up. The last 48 hours have been an absolute masterclass in turning a chaotic, exhausting script completely upside down, shutting the door on the outside world, and physically building a sanctuary from the ground up. If the noise outside is going to be loud, then the walls of my haven are going to be thicker. Every screw driven into a new solid wood bed frame, every staple fired into a patio screen, and every mile driven on a newly revived car engine became an act of defiance.

And by the gods and goddesses, the silence that comes with a short list is magnificent. For too long, the white noise of online cowards, fake diagnoses, and inherited lies tried to crowd into my space. But when you finally look at the people pulling the strings and say no more, the air clears. The last 48 hours weren’t just a weekend; they were a masterclass in rewriting my own narrative. It was about shutting out the flat desert glare, silencing the toxic echo chamber, and choosing exactly what—and who—deserves to stand in my light.

Saturday Morning: A Message in the Wind

The weekend began in that heavy, blurry space where grief and daily life collide. This week, I received my mom’s ashes. When I say I’ve been upset, I mean upset sad and upset upset, not just mad. It brought a profound, heavy sadness to the surface, which was immediately compounded by a layer of pure rage over the absolute lies and gossip put out there online about me by others.

But yesterday morning, something shifted.

I was taking Winston outside to go potty. The desert morning air was still cool, and the birds were singing their hearts out. In that exact moment, through the music of the birds, I swore I heard my mom say, “I love you and your birds singing good morning.”

When I went back inside and told Ronnie, he told me that he had just said good morning to mom, too. Right now, she sits in our living room in her black box. I am deeply struggling with the thought of spreading her ashes like she wanted. I know I have some of her in my little keepsake urn, but letting go of the rest is a weight I’m still figuring out how to carry.

When the weight of the lies and the grief got to be too much to hold in silence, I did what anyone seeking actual sanity does: I reached out to the people who genuinely know my heart, my history, and my character. I reached out to Tania and Kimmy to ask them the gut-wrenching questions that had been circling my mind.

It makes you start to question yourself—who you were in the past and who you are now. It is truly sad, frustrating, and heartbreaking. I got obsessed with it. I have been down a fucking rabbit hole!!!! I need answers!!!! Someone give me answers!!!!!

1. Why do people seem to hate me so much? What have I done so wrong in life?
2. Was I ever a megalomaniac, or conceited, self-absorbed, egotistical, or any of the other horrible things being said about me online?

Ronnie told me straight up that I was never that person. Tania said the exact same thing. Kim basically cut straight through the noise and told me the raw truth: she said I was simply surrounded by assholes and that absolutely none of what they are saying is true.

As for that first question—about why there’s so much unprovoked hatred thrown my way—no one has yet to even answer it, other than Vickie. Vickie laid it out perfectly: she said weak people simply cannot handle who I have always been. They are intimidated by the sheer strength, the fierce determination, the unapologetic authenticity, and the resilient backbone it takes to live life completely on my own terms. They look at someone who refuses to break, and because they can’t match that power, they try to tear it down with gossip.

When you are being gaslit by bullies, you need a reality check from a trusted circle. You need the people who have watched you grow, watched you fight, and watched you love to remind you of exactly who you are. Their answers didn’t just clear the air—they gave me the precise ammunition I needed to sit down at my keyboard and face the noise head-on.

Saturday Mid-Morning: Defamation, Deflection, and the Real Records

That tender moment with mom gave me the exact fuel I needed to face the keyboard. Yesterday, I sat down desperate to get some words out. At first, the screen stayed blank. The words felt blocked because of the sheer noise of the online cowards.

Why do people need to behave that way? Write words on a screen instead of picking up a telephone? We can take our phones anywhere with us now and communicate like adults, instead of acting like online bullies spreading hate, gossip, slander, and lies. If I have something to say to you, I will say it over the phone or straight to your face. FaceTime, Google Meet, Messenger, or a literal vehicle—the technology and the means exist. Tell it to my face. Unless, of course, you are terrified of the repercussions, because trust me: if you tell me who you think I am and it’s a lie, I will call you a liar to your face.

Seeing their garbage didn’t destroy me. It empowered me to be better than them. So to those people? FUCK OFF!!

I had it in me to make a few phone calls and absolutely tear into them, demanding actual, factual documentation to back up their claims that “she has a mental illness.” Do they have medical documentation from an actual provider who saw me and diagnosed me? NOOO. So they can SHUT ALL THE WAY THE FUCK UP!!! Look in a mirror. THEY MAY BE TALKING SHIT ABOUT THEMSELVES AND DEFLECTING IT ON ME.

Which brings me to a massive breakthrough. For years, I was fed a manufactured narrative by a lying, controlling, egotistic, narcissistic person who weaponized the concept of mental illness to isolate and manipulate. I was told that my mom was diagnosed with “bipolar schizophrenia” with delusions of grandeur and fits of rage.

Well, I did my research. First of all, let’s look at the actual science: “bipolar schizophrenia” isn’t even a real clinical diagnosis. They literally just threw the heaviest, scariest-sounding medical words they could think of into a blender to paint her as a monster. Second of all, a person cannot navigate a regular, functioning life in society with that kind of severe, unmanaged psychological instability. It doesn’t work that way. It defies logic. Try again.

I recant absolutely everything I ever wrote, said, or believed about my mom’s mental wellbeing based on those past words. I formally and completely take it all back. I refuse to give those inherited lies a single second of shelf space in my mind or on this blog ever again. The realization that I was operating on information supplied by a chronic manipulator is a hard pill to swallow, but truth is the ultimate disinfectant.

Mama, I am so sorry I believed their lies about you. I have retained your real medical records, and I know the objective, undeniable truth now. You were not what they said you were. You were so much better. They projected their own sickness, their own fits of rage, and their own delusions onto you because they couldn’t handle your light. Thank you for teaching me to do my research, dig deep, get the real facts, and never settle for someone else’s toxic version of the truth.

Essay Draft: The Blueprint of Real Sanity

For the record, let’s talk about actual medical reality. I have been seen in New York by seven different mental health providers. Every single one of them told me the exact same thing: I am more mentally put together than most people. I do have some PTSD—which is a completely localized, normal brain response to surviving abnormal amounts of toxic garbage—but that is it.

Given my life history, a shattered, truly unstable person in my position should be completely unraveling. If you want to know how genuinely mentally ill people behave when they break down, let’s look at the textbook definition:

• Leaning on Hard Addictions to Numb Out: They would be turning to substance abuse—using alcohol, drugs, or chain-smoking—just to quiet their mind, escape reality, and destroy their own health.
• Engaging in Active Self-Harm and Recklessness: They would be physically destroying themselves, sabotaging their own life, or engaging in unsafe behaviors because they lack the capacity to process pain.
• Living Outside the Boundaries of the Law: They would have a history of reckless, impulsive, or outright illegal behavior, completely disregarding societal rules, safety, or legal boundaries.
• Completely Incapable of Basic Functioning: They wouldn’t be able to hold down a demanding, full-time professional career, learn complex daily corporate workflows, or handle routine tasks without spinning into executive dysfunction.
• Living in Self-Created Squalor: They would be drowning in an unmanaged, chaotic environment, unable to handle personal care, highlight their own hair, or maintain a clean, organized home for a house full of loved animals.

But let’s look at my actual reality. I do not drink alcohol. I do not do drugs. I do not smoke anything. I do not do anything that harms myself or others, and I have never done anything illegal.

My version of “escaping” a bad day is taking my husband out for comfort food, clearing my head with cozy video games, and booking front-row comedy tickets months in advance. My version of coping is deep-cleaning the ferret room, keeping the cat’s litter box pristine, and building a beautiful physical sanctuary from the ground up.

I am fundamentally sober, completely lawful, deeply productivity-focused, and intensely protective of every living soul inside my circle. The seven independent professionals who documented my sanity weren’t guessing. They saw an integrated, highly organized person who breaks toxic generational cycles instead of repeating them. They want me to be crazy because my sanity, my success, and my truth make them look absolutely pathetic by comparison.

Saturday Afternoon: The Escape and The Home Depot Pivot

By afternoon, the Tucson summer furnace aggressively cranked itself up well over 100°F, forcing a hard stop. We were entirely done running around in that blinding glare, so Ronnie and I made the executive decision to escape the day completely and get some comfort food at Cheddar’s.

I absolutely love the ambiance in there—the whole place feels like a cozy, massive mountain lodge or a hidden timber chalet. The heavy wood accents, the low, warm lighting, and that deep, rustic atmosphere instantly insulate you from the flat desert sand. We slid into a booth and ordered a legendary, heavy-duty feast.

I got a massive plate of chicken fingers paired with a sirloin steak, a Caesar salad, and rice. Ronnie went full caveman with a half-rack of ribs, broccoli cheese casserole, and mashed taters. We started things off with hot, squeaky fried cheese curds, and to top off the whole feast, Ronnie snagged a massive slice of carrot cake strictly for himself.

Right there from the booth, I took a long look at the upcoming calendar and decided to lock in some future joy. My time, money, and emotional energy belong strictly to the places and people that bring light into my circle. No exceptions. No guilt. I booked us a slate of real magic to look forward to:

• June 13th (Next Saturday): Front row, table seats for Gnatman. Just me, Ronnie, Table 1, and a much-needed date night built on pure entertainment.
• June 20th: Tickets officially locked in for the Midsummer Fairy Lights event here in Tucson. An entire evening of walking through an ethereal, magical solstice display.
• October 24th: Looking ahead to the heart of spooky season, I snagged table seats for Hocus Pocused or Witch, Please?! because October deserves excellent energy.

Fueled up and grounded, we hit Home Depot to tackle the patio. Lately, we’ve been trying to figure out how to keep the outdoor space cool. Our current mesh screen is sagging, frayed, and split right down the center seam—a giant “welcome” sign for every fly in the city. Ronnie initially suggested ripping the screen down and using plastic sheets to seal it up.

Let me be entirely real: plastic on a patio is tacky as hell. It looks like a makeshift construction site, crinkles loudly in the desert breeze, and turns an outdoor oasis into a suffocating greenhouse. We are building a haven here, not a crime scene.

Instead, we are doing it right. We’re going the pro-built route with heavy-duty, 90% UV-blocking solar screen mesh. We are pulling it tight, stapling it directly into the vertical wooden beams, and finishing the edges with clean wood molding. It cuts the glare, blocks the bugs, and provides a pitch-black midnight backdrop for our new 48-foot Hampton Bay shatterproof string lights.

To cool it, we initially picked out a ceiling fan. We had it loaded in the cart and ready to go. But then, we saw the outdoor evaporative coolers. We stopped, looked, and realized that for the money, the high-velocity swamp cooler was worth way more than a fan. Plus, if we ever move, the cooler comes with us; a ceiling fan stays behind.

Decision made, I went to return the fan to its aisle. While back there, I saw an empty shopping cart sitting around, so I just grabbed that one and left the other cart with the fan stuff right there in the aisle. Power move. From there, we hit the garden section and grabbed a gorgeous Algerian ivy plant. With its shadow-loving green leaves, it’s a living reminder of fresh starts. Because the Arizona sun is a killer, it’s skipping the scorching south-facing office windows entirely and heading straight for my north-facing bedroom sanctuary, where the steady, ambient light will let it thrive safely out of reach of curious indoor paws.

Saturday Night: The 10 PM Bedtime Chaos

After getting home and flattening out from the heat and the emotional roller coaster of the day, I claimed some much-needed time for myself. I curled up and escaped into my cozy video games on my Nintendo Switch, completely soaking in the quiet, low-stakes digital worlds of Animal Crossing and Disney Dreamlight Valley. There are no demands there, no toxic noise, and no ghosts—just peaceful, creative spaces where I could actively decompress and let my mind breathe. It was the perfect, gentle way to transition into sleep mode.

But as it turned out, we ended up needing every single ounce of that saved-up calm energy for the absolute circus that erupted right at bedtime.

The night was wrapping up beautifully. Ronnie came into the bedroom, thoughtfully bringing in my favorite nighttime sleep tea to help me drift off, alongside his own cup of mushroom coffee. It was supposed to be our final, quiet moment to ground ourselves before turning off the lights. But the universe apparently had other plans. Just as he went to set the mugs down, his cup seemed to completely defy gravity—literally jumping right off the nightstand and smashing violently on the floor.

It absolutely sucked. In the blink of an eye, our peaceful bedroom sanctuary was shattered by the sound of breaking ceramic and a massive explosion of wet, hot coffee grounds spraying across the floor.

Suddenly, it was 10 PM, and instead of drifting off to sleep, we were on our hands and knees attacking a chaotic, wet mess. The sudden, loud crash and the immediate frustration threw the whole house into a panic. Our three dogs—Winston, Kona, and Chloe—instantly picked up on the high vibration; they were completely stressed out by the sudden noise and commotion, pacing around and freaking out. Ronnie was totally stressed and overwhelmed trying to clean up the hot liquid before it ruined anything, and my own anxiety spiked through the roof watching the peaceful end to my night completely unravel in seconds.

It was a loud, frantic, and utterly exhausting end to a day that had already demanded so much of our energy. For a minute there, the bedroom felt completely overwhelming. Thankfully, we got it all wiped down, the dogs calmed down, and the storm eventually passed. By the time we finally closed our eyes, we knew the morning would bring what we needed most: a total, clean, hard reset.

Sunday Morning: Restoring the Sanctuary

Which brings us to today, Sunday. I woke up at 9:36 AM, looking forward to my upcoming time off next weekend, and immediately went to work restoring peace to the fortress.

I stripped the ferret room down and cleaned it completely. The ferrets are fed, and they got to run amuck indoors, doing their happy little thing. Peppermint the cat is fed, and her litter box is spotless. Winston, Kona, and Chloe are all fed and relaxed.

Right now, we have the new Hessaire evaporative cooler running beautifully on the patio. Thank goodness we went with that over the plastic! A swamp cooler needs open, flowing air to pull the hot desert air through its wet cooling pads and drop the temperature, so running it out on the open patio is exactly how the magic works. Plastic would have trapped the moisture and ruined it.

Below is the latest checklist for my massive workspace and bedroom transformation. I’ve streamlined the delivery schedule so I can easily update this section with my active links later:

• The Creative Workspace Upgrades
  • The Feams iPad Case (Arriving Tomorrow): Features a crystal-clear protective back panel paired with a stunning tri-fold front cover. It’s beautifully detailed with sketch-style butterflies in soft greens, teals, blues, and pinks alongside delicate roses and wildflowers. 
  • The TopMate Wireless Keyboard & Mouse Combo (Arriving Tomorrow): A sleek, ultra-slim, and whisper-quiet compact desk set finished in a clean, modern gold-and-white style. 
  • The HOMIEAZICOZI Leather Desk Mat (Arriving Tomorrow): A premium, non-slip large PU leather pad in elegant Champagne Gold (36″ x 17″) to protect and instantly elevate my new 63-inch executive desk.
• The Bedroom Sanctuary Restructure (Arriving Mid-Week)
  • The Lifezone Solid Wood Queen Size Bed Frame: A stunning Japanese-style platform bed crafted in rich walnut. It features a gorgeous fluted headboard, a rock-solid noise-free structure, and full wooden slat support that will beautifully ground the room alongside my new ivy. 
• The Style & Everyday Upgrades
  • Premium Italy Leather Watch Band (Arriving Tuesday): A stunning, high-end genuine leather watch strap in a gorgeous teal hue, featuring crisp contrast stitching and a rich, classic tan interior lining. 
  • The DABAOZA Genuine Leather Watch Strap (Arriving Today): A sharp, ruggedly handsome replacement band for Ronnie’s watch designed in a premium Black and Walnut metal configuration. 
  • Heavy Duty Garden Netting (Arriving Today): A massive 10x50ft roll of high-durability PP Nanocomposite protective netting for our outdoor sanctuary projects. 
  • Arm & Hammer Sensitive Skin Detergent (Arriving Today): Safe, effective, and completely Free & Clear of perfumes and dyes for our weekly laundry refresh. 

Flipping the Script: Leveling Up as a High-Functioning Adult

So yeah, don’t you dare come at me with whispers of “mental illness.”

I am a high-functioning adult woman who is responsible, protective, and deeply intentional. If anything, I have spent a long time being more serious and responsible than I probably should have been. But that script? It is officially changing right now. I am reclaiming my joy, my fun, and my future.

To prove it, we just got Fiona—my trusty 2016 Ford Fiesta—a brand new battery and a gas pedal sensor. She is officially running amazing! Fiona is locked, loaded, and ready for the open road. We are mapping out long-overdue road trips to Tombstone and Willcox, and planning a trek down to Bisbee where we’ve never been before. There is so much world to see, and we have the rest of this entire year to make it happen. It’s a literal promise I made to my mom, and I intend to keep it.

Being a responsible adult also means knowing how to take care of yourself and your future. Ronnie and I are diving deep into our finances right now, actively working to get everything even tighter and better by systematically paying things off. On top of that, we are both prioritizing our physical health. I am looking into real, sustainable ways to lose weight—shifting my eating habits, researching the right supplements, creating real exercise plans, and finally calling my doctor today to lock in an official appointment. Ronnie is doing the exact same thing. We are leveling up, head to toe.

And because living a bright life requires balance, I am reactivating the things that bring pure, unadulterated fun back into my daily routine. I officially set my Ipsy Boxycharm subscription back up for the premium and big boxes, because a little luxury is mandatory. I’m actively looking for a solid book subscription box to feed my mind, too.

Today is about resting that busy brain. This morning, I decided I just wanted to relax and watch classic cartoons and music videos. I think I’ll pull up a cartoon later today, maybe break out one of my diamond art pieces—I have plenty waiting to be done—and dive into the mountain of books I have lined up to read. There is beautiful, peaceful abundance here.

The only remaining projects for our rental space? Finding a gorgeous new medicine cabinet with a built-in mirror for the bathroom, and tracking down a clever, beautiful way to organize my makeup since our current vanity doesn’t have drawers. A true sanctuary is built on organization, even in a temporary space.

Mid-Day Update: Breathing in the Real Peace

Right now, I am sitting out here on the patio. The new Hessaire cooler is running perfectly, throwing a crisp, cool breeze into the afternoon desert heat. My Echo Dot is playing in the background, and Hall & Oates’ “I Can’t Go For That” is hitting the airwaves.

I’m taking a deep, slow breath, closing my eyes, and breathing like I haven’t been able to do in so long. Things are finally getting better. They are looking up. This shift has been a long time coming for both Ronnie and me.

In a few minutes, I’m heading inside the house to get my hair highlighted by Ronnie. Once that’s done, we are heading out into the world for a little while today. We’ve got a loose itinerary planned—a little grocery shopping, hitting Home Depot one more time to grab the last pieces for the screen project, and who knows what else. The day belongs entirely to us.

If you are reading this and you aren’t part of our inner circle, that is perfectly fine. Just remember: if you were removed from that circle, it was entirely your own doing. It means you chose to lose your seat in our home, and in our lives. I wish you well, truly—I just do not want you in my life ever again.

Mama, I am doing my absolute best to keep my promise to you. I promised you that I would start living better, being better, and protecting my light. There is no more looking back. Only forward now. I miss you every single day, and I am going to live my life fully on my own terms. As Frank Sinatra sang, I am doing it my way.

The View from Inside the Circle

Picture how that patio is going to feel in just a few days. The air perfectly chilled by a crisp breeze. A warm, starry-night glow radiating overhead from the filament bulbs against a midnight-black solar screen. A lush pop of green ivy thriving nearby, and nothing but the sound of the birds singing.

No outside drama. No toxic family drains. No lingering noise from people who only know how to take. Just a private, protected, beautifully lit ring of comfort around our life.

Living a bright life means protecting your deep roots. It means being fierce enough to dig up the actual facts, standing guard over the people you love, and refusing to let online cowards dictate who you are. Cut the cords on what hurts you, invest heavily in what brings you joy, and build your fortress from the inside out.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, my hair appointment with Ronnie is calling, and I have a beautiful, quiet, and completely drama-free Sunday to enjoy.

How are you drawing your lines in the sand and upgrading your own sanctuary this week? Let me know in the comments below!