The Unlearning Season: Notes from a Formerly Fried Brain

There was never a “before.”
No golden age to revisit, no crisp childhood memory where I felt safe and seen.
It’s been survival from day one—high-stakes, high-alert, high-functioning (barely).

When you grow up like that, your baseline becomes burnout.
You mistake chaos for charisma.
Adrenaline for ambition.
And eventually, your nervous system stops whispering and just shouts:
“Girl. Sit down.”

So I did.

I left Texas.
I left Louisiana.
I left Los Angeles.

And now? I'm in the Orange fucking County. I’m happy to be here.
Not exactly where I thought I’d end up, but peace doesn’t always come dressed in neon and noise.
Sometimes it smells like ocean air and finally getting enough sleep.

Somewhere in this new stillness, I started remembering.
Not a sweet-before-the-storm childhood—more like digital safehouses I built to survive it.
GaiaOnline, where I could design a version of myself I actually liked.
Final Fantasy VII, where grief had a plot and I could grind my way through it.
Let’s be honest: the software engineer I became?
Probably forged from tuning out household trauma and replacing it with pixels, potions, and forum friends.

This year? It’s the Year of the Snake.
A time to shed what no longer fits and stretch into who I might become.

So I’ve been decluttering.
My shelves.
My timelines.
My emotional hoarder closets.
I’m making space for healing, softness, and honesty.
I’ve started PTSD therapy—the real kind. Not just venting into the group chat and hoping someone sends a meme. I even have a garden; that it takes time to grow amazing fruit, herbs and vegetables. The shit I like because I went plant-based and ongoing for 12+ years. And I was made fun of for that.

I’m also taking dance and music classes.
Not to perform, but to remember.
To feel joy live in my body, not just in my brain.
To let movement speak when words get tangled.

I'm rediscovering what makes me feel human:
singing in the shower,
goofy solo dances in the kitchen,
falling in love with Vietnamese food again and again,
honoring my Asian pride through flavor, rhythm, and reclaiming space I used to shrink in.

So yeah. This is my unlearning season.
Unlearning urgency.
Unlearning the belief that love must be earned through effort.
Unlearning the idea that survival is all I’m built for.

Instead, I’m choosing joy.
Messy, delicious, pixelated joy.
One bite, one beat, one breath at a time.

If you’re somewhere in your own quiet transformation—
welcome.
You’re right on time.