I write from the jagged edges of experience—not to inspire or comfort, but to drag readers into the spaces we’re not supposed to talk about. My memoir, Transient, chronicles the cycle of meth addiction, psychosis, and fragile recovery with brutal precision, dismantling the sanitized narratives of redemption that recovery culture sells us.
My work exists in the tension between annihilation and survival. I document the moments where identity fractures, where the mind splits from reality, where institutions meant to help often inflict their own unique damage. I’m interested in the parts of addiction that rehab centers don’t put in their brochures—the permanent rewiring of pleasure, the void that sobriety can’t fill, the uncomfortable truth that sometimes what we lose in recovery is the most vivid experience of being alive we’ve ever known.
I don’t write inspirational stories about overcoming adversity. I write about carrying that adversity with you, about what happens when the pieces don’t fit back together, about navigating a world that demands performance of wellness while the internal landscape remains permanently altered.
Currently, I’m finalizing Transient and developing an essay collection, Analysis Paralysis. My work has garnered interest from literary outlets seeking voices that refuse to sand down their edges.
