Relationships

The voices that bellow doom with their baseless accusations of inadequacy are thieves of your peace. It’s eviction lies!

There are certain lyrics that stay with you. You hear them once, and they just kind of settle somewhere inside you. For me, one of those lyrics, along with many others by Linkin Park, is, “The hardest part of ending is starting again.”

This resonates so deep in my soul. I don’t really know why. Whenever I hear it, it’s like this weight lifts off my shoulders. I scream it, belt it out loud, and then just sit there after like… okay. Yeah. That’s it. That’s something I’ve felt but never really said out loud.

And then it makes me think about my life in ways I don’t always want to sit with.

I spent most of my life feeling disconnected from myself. Like I was there, physically, but not really there there, if that makes sense. My mind was always wandering, daydreaming about a world where I actually fit in. Or it was just full of nerves—constant pressure in my body to be someone more likable. More acceptable. More… something.

Personally, I felt like I was just observing life rather than really being in it. I remember growing up, I would usually skip playing games with other kids and just sit on the sidelines instead. Watching. Always watching. And it always felt like everyone else got the memo on who they were supposed to be, and I just… didn’t. I didn’t have anything solid to hold onto other than the fact that I was quiet.

I compared myself constantly. Other people seemed so sure. They knew what they wanted. They knew where they belonged. And me? I always felt kind of outside of that, like it was something I was supposed to understand but just couldn’t quite reach.

The truth is, I never really knew who I was. And I don’t think I fully understood how hard it is to move through life when you don’t have a clear sense of yourself.

A lot of my life has felt like this cycle of ending something and starting again. I mean even the small things. School years ending. Summers ending. Chapters of life closing and something else opening right after it.

And then there are the bigger ones. Friendships ending. Relationships shifting or breaking apart. Losing people. Losing versions of myself too, honestly.

It’s that space in between that gets me. That weird in-between where something has already ended but you’re still standing there like you’re supposed to know what comes next. Life keeps going anyway. It doesn’t really wait for you to catch up. And you’re just left staring at this empty page thinking… okay, now what?

For me, the hardest part has always been going back to the beginning.

I’m really sensitive to time, to change, to the way things end. I don’t know how else to explain it. Even small endings hit me more than I expect them to. Finishing a book. Leaving a place I liked. The last day of something that felt good. It all sticks with me more than I want it to.

And I think part of it is that awareness—you don’t get to go back. You don’t get the exact same moment again. Even if something similar happens later, it’s not the same version of you, not the same feeling, not the same anything.

That kind of awareness can be a lot.

I think the endings that hit me the hardest are friendships and relationships… because they take pieces of your life with them. Real pieces.

I’ve experienced a lot of heartbreak. Friendships ending suddenly. Losing people I never really got closure with. Grief in different forms. And yeah—it hurts. It just does.

And for me especially, I don’t move on quickly. I feel things for a long time. Not because I choose to, but because it just… stays. I replay things. I revisit memories. And I sit with the “what ifs” even when I know I shouldn’t.

Sometimes I’ll think about old friendships years later, not because I want them back exactly as they were, but because they hold parts of my life that don’t exist anywhere else anymore. Certain versions of me only existed inside those moments. And when they’re gone, it’s like I can still remember them but I can’t actually go back.

And I don’t know. That stays with me.

But eventually, you don’t really get a choice. Things end whether you’re ready or not. And then you’re left figuring out what to do with that.

There’s so much uncertainty in that space, and I’ve never been great with uncertainty.

I’ve had to start over more times than I can count. Some were chosen. Some definitely weren’t. And some came from growth. Others came from life just kind of forcing me in a different direction.

Honestly, one of the biggest shifts in my life came after my autism and ADHD diagnoses.

For years I was trying to fix myself without really understanding why. I thought I was lazy, inconsistent, too emotional, just… not able to do things the way other people could. So I pushed myself constantly to become someone I thought I was supposed to be.

When I finally got answers, there was relief. But also grief.

I remember sitting alone after my diagnosis just replaying everything. Years of memories that suddenly looked completely different. Things I had judged myself for didn’t look like failures in the same way anymore. They just… made sense in a different context.

I thought I would only feel relief.

But I didn’t.

I felt grief.

Grief for all the years I spent blaming myself for things I didn’t even understand yet.

People talk about diagnosis like it’s just validation—and it is—but they don’t always talk about the emotional aftermath. The weird unlearning. The way your past kind of reshapes itself whether you’re ready or not.

It’s like suddenly you’re looking at your entire life through a different lens and realizing you have to let go of a lot of the stories you built just to survive it.

And that’s freeing, yeah.

But it’s also unsettling.

Because once you see it differently, you can’t really go back.

The version of me I spent years trying to become… that chapter was ending.

And I was kind of just left there in it.

Not knowing what comes next.

Not knowing who I was without all of that.

I realized how much of my identity had been built around trying to compensate, trying to fix things I didn’t understand, trying to be “better” without even knowing what that meant for me.

And without those old narratives, I honestly didn’t know who I was anymore.

I started questioning everything. What parts of me were real? What parts were masking? And I didn’t have answers. I still don’t, not fully.

Just a lot of uncertainty.

And yeah… that’s always been hard for me.

I think that’s what this lyric really captures.

Not just endings.

But that weird space after. That in-between where nothing is fully formed yet and you’re just kind of… there.

Endings hurt.

Beginnings are scary.

Endings ask you to let go.

Beginnings ask you to trust something you can’t fully see yet.

I’ve noticed this pattern in my life over and over again. When routines fall apart. When burnout forces me to stop. And when life just doesn’t go the way I planned.

The hardest part is rarely admitting something ended.

It’s letting myself begin again.

Because that means vulnerability. It means risk. It means not knowing what happens next.

And I don’t always do that gracefully. Sometimes I resist it longer than I should. Sometimes I stay stuck in the in-between because at least it’s familiar.

But eventually something shifts.

Not because everything becomes clear.

But because staying still starts to feel heavier than moving forward.

And when I look back, I can see it now… so many of the endings I thought would break me actually became the things that led me somewhere better.

And every time life begins again… I get another chance to figure that out.

What version of myself do I keep grieving, even though I’ve already outgrown them?

“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.” — Semisonic

#ADHD #Autism #Neurodiversity #AutismSpectrumDisorder #MightyTogether #MentalHealth

When Pauley and I decided it was finally time to collar me I immediately ran to Etsy where I had a few days collars saved. The one I liked most was her pick. So I measured my neck and gave the number to the artist. She sent the collar which we got last week. It ended up being 5 inches too short. I was so upset. I didn't want to admit my error but Pauley decided to talk to her and it was agreed she was gonna send us a 5 inch extension. It worked out wonderful! It fits perfectly and looks wonderful. What do you think? I am a very happy puppy boy.
#MentalHealth #Relationships

If I have learnt one thing in my 65 years on this planet it’s this, you will never know what a day will bring.

Last night when I hopped into bed my heart started having intense palpitations like I have never experienced before. I put it down to the raft of pain meds I am on after major dental surgery last week.

I woke at 4am and as soon as I stood up the world started spinning and I crashed onto the floor. Unfortunately this woke my Wife and she was instantly concerned. I assured her I was ok and must have slipped. I tried getting up again and this time crashed down harder. She had the presence of mind to get my blood pressure machine and it registered 88 over 64. Normally my bp is about 130/90. I knew trying to get up again was futile so we called an ambulance.

I was devastated. Over the past few years there have been 10 surgeries my Wife has nursed me through and emotionally she is exhausted. Here we were another medical emergency.

She didn’t come in the ambulance with me. I assured her I understood and was fully supportive of her decision. Two years on if she hears the words “code blue” she freezes. I am ok with the words as I have no recollection of the incident.

Self pity started knocking on my door today. I sent it away. Yes, it’s a major disappointment and the CT scan of my brain won’t be reviewed until tomorrow as it’s a public holiday today.

Whatever happens I know, in Australia we have amazing medical care. It’s not cheap but it is extremely good. My family made sure someone was with me all day. Many people have no one.

I didn’t break a bone which is amazing considering my current poor bone density.

I thinks it’s critical we never try and intertwine depression and self pity together. Depression is not a choice. It’s a medical condition. It’s horrendous. It doesn’t discriminate.

Yet, in spite of what’s happening around me, God help me to see what is going right even though there are many things going wrong.

The photo is my youngest Granddaughter. She had the miseries one day and wanted everyone to know about it. As is her way, 5 minutes after the photo she found reasons to be grateful. May I always follow her great example.

Hi everyone. Three days ago I went into hospital and had all my upper teeth removed and dental implants put in their place. This is a decision I have been putting off for a few years but the deterioration of my teeth left me without many options.

Practically this means only soft foods for the next 4-6 months. As you can see from the photo I look like a teddy bear at the moment. Since that photo black eyes and black cheeks have emerged. I am trying to focus on the end results. The swelling will retreat and the black eyes will heal. It’s the yucky in between season I hate. I am sure you can relate.