It’s been a while.
I hope everyone’s new year started on the right foot. Mine… did not. And that’s the honest version.
Over the last five years, I’ve become noticeably quieter. Some of you know why. Others may have simply noticed the distance. More recently, even my immediate family and closest circle may have felt that shift deepen. That wasn’t accidental. It was intentional. And it was necessary.
This post is a brief explanation of what’s been happening and what to expect moving forward.
How 2025 Ended (and Why It Matters)
The end of 2025 was brutal.
It ended with an emergency move tied to a reasonable accommodation request under the Fair Housing Act, triggered by ongoing maintenance negligence. That situation forced a premature goodbye to my senior dog who's been my constant companion for 12+ years, a drastic downsizing of my home, and a complete reset of my living situation. For anyone, that’s a lot. For a neurodivergent person, it’s traumatic on multiple levels.
I’m still trying to recover from that.
And unfortunately, the fallout didn’t stop there.
I’m currently disputing questionable and excessive charges from former property management who failed to provide proper notice and have been largely uncooperative. Legal counsel is underway, with representation likely to follow.
Health insurance premiums increased again, as they did for many people. In my case, the financial impact was significant and will directly affect prescriptions and future care.
Ongoing family circumstances, including a medical crisis involving a family member, have resurfaced emotional wounds that were still healing. No one is at fault, but it does limit my capacity more than I wish it did.
Put plainly: I’m still going through it.
Why I Pulled Back
As all of this unfolded, I was receiving frequent texts and emails during work hours that shattered my focus. I’d come home overstimulated and dysregulated, only to spend my downtime addressing the very things I needed relief from. The time I usually reserve for rest, regulation, and recovery disappeared.
My health noticed. Hard.
My vision took the worst hit, turning everyday tasks into challenges. And the truth is, I never truly had the chance to recover from how violently 2025 ended.
So I did something uncomfortable but necessary: I reinforced my boundaries.
That meant saying no to calls and messages, staying in more, and turning my attention inward. It may sound selfish, but it isn’t. I cannot show up meaningfully for others if I’m actively falling apart. This is me taking care of myself so that I can eventually be present again.
One weekend of strict boundary enforcement yielded noticeable improvements heading into the work week. That kind of stability is something I value deeply.
For now, this is how things need to be.
What to Expect Going Forward
I know many of you worry because I’m not as social or visibly present as I once was. The truth is, this shift began back in 2020, and every step back since then has been made with my long-term health in mind. It wasn’t what I wanted. It was what I needed.
Going forward, I’ll be publishing at least one blog post per month. These posts will serve as updates for those who want to stay in the loop, along with deeper insight into the realities of my day-to-day life, especially from a medical standpoint.
In addition, I’ll try to be a little more active on one other social media platform, most likely Instagram. Think of it as a tiny check-in — a brief signal that I’m alive, stable, and okay. These posts may also be cross-posted to Facebook for visibility.
That said, this does not change my communication boundaries.
I will remain generally non-responsive across all messaging platforms. Instagram is not a backdoor to my attention or a guaranteed response, and neither is Facebook Messenger or any other app. Presence does not equal availability.
As for direct communication:
Phone calls and casual messages will remain limited for the foreseeable future, with a few exceptions.
Facebook message notifications are off. I check Facebook only via desktop, not the app.
The best way to reach me is still email: letterstojade@proton.me.
Written communication gives me the space to respond thoughtfully and within my capacity. It may take time, but it’s the channel that respects both my energy and my health.
Final Thoughts
I do have a lot to say. And I want to be available to the people who care about me. But strict self-management is essential if I’m going to have enough energy, clarity, and recovery time to do that sustainably.
If you’ve made it this far, congratulations — you’ve just finished my first blog.
Feel free to leave a comment about what you’d like me to talk about in future posts, or send that message in a bottle. Take care, and I’ll see you in the next one.
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