I appreciate your words. Really. There's honesty in them, and something brave in how you speak to pain without trying to fix it. That matters.
But I’ve got to be real: I didn’t get a velvet cage.
I lost my business. I lost my home. I lost my marriage. And I lost my only son.
I’m not sitting in sadness—I’m crawling through the crater it left behind.
That kind of pain isn’t soft, or poetic. It doesn’t whisper. It howls. It shows up in the middle of the night and rips the breath out of my lungs. There’s no folding that into a paper boat. I’d burn the paper. Maybe scream into it first.
But still—your words made me pause. Not because they describe my pain, but because they try to speak to something real. And in a world full of polished nonsense, that’s rare. So thank you for that.
Just... know that for some of us, the story hasn’t softened yet. It still bleeds. And I’m still here. Somehow.
mine still bleeds too. my son passed away too. I just try to bleed love from my wounds. when the world if full of hatred. I’m sorry for your loss. We’re all still here, somehow. 🫂
I am sorry, Mark. It must be heartbreaking. All I can do is say a prayer for you. I believe in Heaven where there is eternal happiness and all our tears are washed away; and hope to meet you there some day.
Beautifully said. Learning to choose a new way- of more compassion, kindness and love - towards ourself and the world as whole. It’s a building process, one block at a time. One choice to let joy in at a time. So we can bow goodbye to our long life companions with grace, and welcome new ones in reverence
this is so beautiful. i think about this all the time. how safe i can feel in my misery. for me i think it has do with having control as well. i know misery so thoroughly and intimately that i know what to expect from it every time. i know what its room looks like, where everything is placed. it's a strange relief then, to slip back into that chronic deeply depressive state. thank you for sharing, it's (morbidly) comforting knowing others have a similar relationship to misery.
This is excellent way to process and metabolize charged emotions attached to memories. Whether its intuitive or learned, it works and it's powerful reading the grace and space you're giving yourself here. Any following it can benefit from that example.
“I wrote a letter to my misery, not to banish it, but to thank it. It had kept me company, after all. I folded it into a paper boat and let it float away in my mind.”
Reminds me of this podcast I listened to. Shawn Ryan show. Guest was Tom Satterly. Delta Force operator that was part of Blackhawk Down. Dude had severe ptsd. Saw his friends die. Somali militia dropping bags of body parts of US soldiers at the gates of their temporary base. Several times had a gun in his mouth with his wife begging him not to pull the trigger.
He actually had a one-on-one with his alter-ego in kind of a ceremony. It was his Delta call sign. It was The Wolf or something like that. This alter ego kept him alive. His wife knew it well. She was like I don’t need The Wolf. I need Tom. I don’t need The Wolf to freak the fuck out on our kids while doing dishes. Shit like that. He thanked The Wolf for keeping him alive. And told it that he doesn’t need him anymore, that he’s all safe, and all secure.
He now has a foundation called All Secure to help vets reintegrate into life.
Sometimes that misery does more than keep you company. Sometimes Maddie, it’s the only thing that keeps you alive.
I have chills because I know exactly what you’re speaking about. 😢 I listened to that exact podcast before. I have so much respect for the operators. I’m a veteran myself.
This is so beautiful. Thank you for writing it. What a gift you have given to so many people with your insight.
Thank you so much for reading and sharing such kind words 💗🥹
Ooh, this was good food for thought. Your writing is fantastic!
thank you very much.
Absolutely love this. Brilliantly insightful. Thank you.
Thank you so much for reading. I’m glad you loved it.
How do you end up at the top my feed everywhere Maddie! Are you friends with the ‘right people’?
Oh and what a captivating read!
Yes, something did stir, and yes I too hope it stays with me and grows. Thanks!
How many times do you rewrite this stuff?! It's not a midnight ramble for sure. I'd love a few tips.
I miss the comfort of being sad.
relatable
Sorry wrong Nirvana song :I meant to say it’s a lyric from “France’s Farmer will have her Revenge”
That’s a lyric by Nirvana in “Serve the Servants”
I appreciate your words. Really. There's honesty in them, and something brave in how you speak to pain without trying to fix it. That matters.
But I’ve got to be real: I didn’t get a velvet cage.
I lost my business. I lost my home. I lost my marriage. And I lost my only son.
I’m not sitting in sadness—I’m crawling through the crater it left behind.
That kind of pain isn’t soft, or poetic. It doesn’t whisper. It howls. It shows up in the middle of the night and rips the breath out of my lungs. There’s no folding that into a paper boat. I’d burn the paper. Maybe scream into it first.
But still—your words made me pause. Not because they describe my pain, but because they try to speak to something real. And in a world full of polished nonsense, that’s rare. So thank you for that.
Just... know that for some of us, the story hasn’t softened yet. It still bleeds. And I’m still here. Somehow.
mine still bleeds too. my son passed away too. I just try to bleed love from my wounds. when the world if full of hatred. I’m sorry for your loss. We’re all still here, somehow. 🫂
I say the rosary to our Blessed Mother. She too lost a son and no doubt sees you too everyday, Maddie.
I am sorry, Mark. It must be heartbreaking. All I can do is say a prayer for you. I believe in Heaven where there is eternal happiness and all our tears are washed away; and hope to meet you there some day.
Beautifully said. Learning to choose a new way- of more compassion, kindness and love - towards ourself and the world as whole. It’s a building process, one block at a time. One choice to let joy in at a time. So we can bow goodbye to our long life companions with grace, and welcome new ones in reverence
Yes, absolutely. Thank you so much for reading and sharing your thoughts.
Joy is a wild card, but worth playing for! Love love this, Maddie!!
thank you so much!
Deeply touching and deeply relatable❤️🩹 I love the question "What if your sorrow has already done its job?"😭
Thank you so much 🥹🥰
Thanks for this reminder.. this line, “replaying old hurts like a scratched vinyl record, each skip carving the groove deeper.”
thank you for taking the time to read it.
I saved it too, a really important reminder ✨❤️🩹
I could feel the first 4 lines in my hands. Incredible prose
you are too kind. thank you so much.
I’ll be making way through all your work. I really enjoy how you write
that means a lot to me. thank you!
this is so beautiful. i think about this all the time. how safe i can feel in my misery. for me i think it has do with having control as well. i know misery so thoroughly and intimately that i know what to expect from it every time. i know what its room looks like, where everything is placed. it's a strange relief then, to slip back into that chronic deeply depressive state. thank you for sharing, it's (morbidly) comforting knowing others have a similar relationship to misery.
thank you so much 🥹
What's with writing this piece and the chocolate pancakes?
This has got to be my favourite writing of yours… really spoke to me ♥️♥️
You are too kind. I appreciate that! 🥰
This is excellent way to process and metabolize charged emotions attached to memories. Whether its intuitive or learned, it works and it's powerful reading the grace and space you're giving yourself here. Any following it can benefit from that example.
Thank you so very much! 💗
a pleasure to
“I wrote a letter to my misery, not to banish it, but to thank it. It had kept me company, after all. I folded it into a paper boat and let it float away in my mind.”
Reminds me of this podcast I listened to. Shawn Ryan show. Guest was Tom Satterly. Delta Force operator that was part of Blackhawk Down. Dude had severe ptsd. Saw his friends die. Somali militia dropping bags of body parts of US soldiers at the gates of their temporary base. Several times had a gun in his mouth with his wife begging him not to pull the trigger.
He actually had a one-on-one with his alter-ego in kind of a ceremony. It was his Delta call sign. It was The Wolf or something like that. This alter ego kept him alive. His wife knew it well. She was like I don’t need The Wolf. I need Tom. I don’t need The Wolf to freak the fuck out on our kids while doing dishes. Shit like that. He thanked The Wolf for keeping him alive. And told it that he doesn’t need him anymore, that he’s all safe, and all secure.
He now has a foundation called All Secure to help vets reintegrate into life.
Sometimes that misery does more than keep you company. Sometimes Maddie, it’s the only thing that keeps you alive.
I have chills because I know exactly what you’re speaking about. 😢 I listened to that exact podcast before. I have so much respect for the operators. I’m a veteran myself.
You’re a veteran? That’s really cool. I have an intense respect for people like Tom. What branch? When and where? What was your MOS?
Navy. 2015-2021. I was a Seabee. (Rate was EO)
Construction! Nice.
My friend does that for AF basically.
I operated a grader mostly 🤣