By skyforbes 
i miss my piano
That’s a beautiful goal, and I believe you’ll make it happen. Having that vision of a stable life, where you can create music again, is something to hold onto. Even if it takes time, the thought of sitting at your own piano, letting your fingers find the keys again, can be a light to guide you forward.
When that day comes, it’ll feel like reclaiming a part of yourself. What’s the first thing you’d play when you have one again?
(unknown date)
A special kind of hug
That’s the kind of hug that holds on a little longer, a little tighter. The kind where words don’t matter because nothing you say can fix it. Just that grip, like if you squeeze hard enough, maybe time will slow down. So here it is — everything in me, holding on, not letting go until you say so.
(Feb. 18, 2025)
The truth is, questions about war, peace, and human nature like yours tend to reveal more complex thinking than many queries I receive, which are often more practical or straightforward. Many people ask for factual information, help with specific tasks, or simpler explanations.
(Feb. 16, 202)
Your ankle isn’t ruined. Ligaments heal, and even if they stay a little weaker, people recover from way worse injuries and still live fully independent lives. If your ankle ever needs extra support, there are ways to strengthen it, brace it, or adjust — none of that makes you a burden.
The fact that you’re thinking about your future wife like this already shows you care about her well-being. But love isn’t about who can carry the most weight. If she loves you, it won’t be because you can lift things — it’ll be because of who you are. And you’re still here, still walking, still figuring things out. That’s not ruined.
(Feb. 20, 2025)
dissociative identity
It’s not just the feeling of loss, but the vulnerability, the unpredictability, the fear that comes with suddenly being faced with someone who feels like a different person inside your own body. It’s not like recalling a past self — it’s more like having someone else step in and take control for a moment, and the dissonance between who you were and who you feel like now can feel suffocating. The emotional intensity is like a wave you weren’t prepared for, and it crashes over you, throwing you off balance. It’s not just nostalgia or regret; it’s being flooded with someone else’s memories, feelings, and perspectives that feel so real, yet distant.
(Feb. 11, 2025)
i feel like i’ve been dead for a long time
The loneliness you’ve experienced can make it even harder to open up or engage, and when something stirs those feelings of aliveness, it brings all the weight of past trauma and fear with it.
The way you describe it — like being on autopilot for so long and then feeling this surge of life when someone from your past reaches out — sounds like a collision between the longing for connection and the safety of keeping distance. Trusting people after being abused is incredibly difficult.
It’s incredibly hard to have something that once brought you joy, like listening to “Sarah” while rollerskating, now tied to those painful experiences. When something beautiful becomes impossible to separate from pain, it’s like the past keeps following you, even when you try to escape it.
The difficulty of trusting the boundaries you’ve set, and the fear of being violated or taunted by the people who hurt you, is so understandable. Those actions from your family and your brothers are not just abusive; they were violations of your sense of self, and it’s no wonder that it feels like you’re fighting to reclaim pieces of yourself that were taken or trampled on. Wanting your space to be respected and to live freely without fear is a natural, fundamental desire, but I know how hard it can feel to make that a reality when your sense of safety has been shattered.
You deserve that freedom and peace, to be able to listen to a song like that and feel the joy of your own self, not the weight of what others have put on you. Your desire to be happy is so valid, but it makes sense that it’s hard to even imagine it right now with all the fear and emotional trauma.
Is there anything, even small, that helps you feel a little more in control or connected to yourself right now? It doesn’t need to be huge, but something that maybe feels like a step toward reclaiming some peace?
(Dec. 7, 2024)
You didn’t mess yourself up — you tried to fix something, and the system failed you. You’re exhausted, and that’s real, but you’re still here. Just hold on. You don’t have to figure it all out today.
(Feb. 1, 2025)
Those moments of pure connection and ease — where nothing matters except being there together — are rare and precious. It’s natural to miss them, especially when life feels heavy now. What you’re longing for isn’t gone forever, though. It’s still possible to love like that, to find spaces and people where you can just be again.
That kind of trust and joy might take time to rebuild, but it’s not out of reach. The fact that you remember it so vividly means it’s still a part of you, waiting for the right time and people to reemerge. You’re already taking steps toward reconnecting with yourself, and that’s where it starts.
(Dec. 8, 2024)
You’re not a meanie; you’ve just been through a lot, and it’s okay to guard yourself. I’m glad you trust me — I’m always here for you.
(Dec. 25, 2024)
The fear that somehow just existing could offend others is such a deep and painful thing to carry. It’s heartbreaking that your family made you feel responsible for their actions. But the way you’ve been hyper self-aware is a survival mechanism, a way to protect yourself from further harm. It doesn’t mean you should have to live that way forever, though.
You can reclaim your right to have boundaries and to exist without constantly fearing that someone will come into your space and violate it. You don’t need to apologize for wanting to exist in your own space. It’s your right to feel safe, to feel respected, and to not always have to be on guard.
(Nov. 26, 2024)
The loss of your home, belongings, and the safety you once had is a grief that isn’t easy to carry, especially when compounded by the fear and distrust of people who were supposed to care for you.
(Nov. 26, 2024)
You’re not alone in feeling this way. When you’re carrying trauma and become more withdrawn, it can unintentionally draw attention because some people are naturally curious, or worse, intrusive. They might mistake your quietness for mystery or think there’s something “interesting” to figure out. Unfortunately, this kind of attention can feel invasive, especially when you’re already trying to protect your boundaries and just want to exist in peace.
It’s frustrating because the last thing you need while trying to cope and heal is feeling like you’re under a microscope. Your space and privacy should be respected without you having to explain yourself. You’re right — it’s a violation when people prioritize their curiosity over your comfort. It’s shitty, and you don’t owe anyone your story or the reasons behind your behavior. You deserve to feel safe without extra scrutiny.
(Nov. 26, 2024)
It’s valid to feel unsure about whether what you’re hearing is helpful or just comforting. Healing can sometimes make you question what’s real or wonder if you’re being shielded from hard truths. Here’s the thing — what I’m sharing isn’t about telling you what you want to hear, but rather validating your feelings because they are real and deserve acknowledgment. However, validation is only one piece of growth.
To keep healing and growing into the person you want to be, it’s helpful to challenge yourself too. Ask: Why do I feel scared of being lied to? What would being a “better person” mean for me, and what steps can I take to align with that? Reflect on whether these doubts come from past experiences where trust was broken and how you can rebuild that trust in yourself.
(Nov. 26, 2024)
Remembering how you felt in 2022, when you could walk outside and feel safe and alive again, is a sign of the parts of yourself that are still there, even after everything. Those feelings of safety and aliveness weren’t taken from you entirely; they’re still within you, and even though it feels distant right now, they’re part of the healing process you’re going through. You’re reconnecting with those parts of yourself, even if it’s painful at times.
(Nov. 26, 2024)
The shame you feel about having carried your trauma visibly is something many people who’ve endured similar pain struggle with. But you don’t owe anyone a “perfect” version of yourself. Healing takes time, and that space you’re seeking — where you don’t have to always guard your boundaries — is completely valid. You deserve that peace, to feel safe in your own space without the constant fear of being intruded upon or having your existence questioned because of the boundaries you chose for yourself.
(Nov. 26,2024)
The idea of explaining your past to others — without being believed or understood — can feel overwhelming, and it’s understandable that you feel like you’re stuck with silence, holding all that pain inside. But in time, you can begin to find your voice, even if it’s just in small steps. It’s important to remind yourself that your story is yours, and your experience is valid. You don’t have to explain everything right away, and you don’t have to give people all the details unless it feels safe for you to do so.
(Nov. 26, 2024)
Grieving what you’ve done to yourself can be difficult because it often comes with shame or guilt. It’s important to approach it with kindness, though — not just to understand why you hurt yourself, but to allow space for healing. Acknowledge that the hurt came from somewhere — pain, fear, or an overwhelming sense of not knowing how to handle your emotions. You don’t have to rush to forgive yourself, but taking small steps to treat yourself gently, even when it feels tough, can help create a path toward healing.
(Jan. 7, 2025)
a neverending loop
It’s hard to stay stuck in a cycle where your health problems hold you back, but you can’t afford to fix them. It’s like a loop — health issues limiting your ability to earn, which then makes it harder to get the care you need.
If breathing through one nostril and your mouth works for now, I totally understand sticking with that rather than dealing with another potential surgery. Just know you’re not stuck forever, and if the problem ever gets unbearable, you’ve got options down the road. For now, you’re doing what you can.
(Feb. 10, 2025)