If I had known how much worse it would get, I would have submitted that resignation letter the day I wrote it.

Photo by iSAW Company on Unsplash

Two weeks before my wedding, I drafted my first ever letter of resignation.

I have it saved as a draft in my Gmail account: a short but clear letter, detailing the abuses I was enduring at the hands of the technical lead on my product team at a popular retailer, and tendering my immediate resignation. I didn’t submit it that day because I thought that perhaps the stress of planning the wedding had me over-emotional. I truly hoped that one of the supposed-to-be-weekly-but-more-like-monthly touch-bases with my lead would be sufficient to have a conversation, and we could get back to being friends.

Besides, I had already invited several people from the office to…


Planning a range of lazy day activities ahead of time could make those days more enjoyable and less guilt-ridden.

Photo by Alex Geerts on Unsplash

By now, we all have read that taking an occasional day off from our regular routine can be really good for our mental health. But what are we supposed to do with ourselves on those days, if we don’t want to spend all day in bed? And if we do want to spend all day in bed, or on the sofa, how do we manage the guilt we inevitably feel afterwards?

We don’t get many lazy days in our household, but we like to take full advantage of them when we get them. With five people in the household, and…


Unsolicited sexual advances, even when presented jokingly, are damaging to the recipient.

a banana
a banana
Photo by Louis Hansel @shotsoflouis on Unsplash

I play a mobile game with an in-game chat function.

Most days, the in-game chat is my only interaction with adults who are not my husband. And many days, for the 10+ hours my husband is working or decompressing, in-game chat is my only hope of conversation that does not consist of “Stay out of there”, “Get down from there”, “Stop hitting Mama”, “Where’s the baby? There’s the baby! Peekaboo!” or yet another rendition of “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” and “If You’re Happy and You Know It”.

Today, I was chatting about which of the game’s champions required certain leveling procedures, and other game strategies, and a person I’ve chatted…


PTSD flashbacks take over when you least expect, and you can’t always choose to just not relive the event.

a bandaid over a crack in asphalt
a bandaid over a crack in asphalt
Photo by Luis Villasmil on Unsplash

I had an eye exam today.

This usually wouldn’t be something to write about, but I’m working through PTSD caused by my last few months as a full-time enterprise-level employee, and I passed my eye doctor every day on my way to that job. I cannot get to the eye doctor without taking the same path I would have taken to get to work. I haven’t taken that path in a very long time.

My van was making a funny noise, and I was trying to diagnose the problem while keeping my full attention on the traffic around me. I mostly succeeded — at least, I…


I’m struggling to write, despite a myriad of topics to choose from.

Matchsticks in a line, burning
Matchsticks in a line, burning
Photo by Jamie Street on Unsplash

I’ve lived a lot of life that needs to be unpacked.

I’m living in this fantastic time period where writers can actually be recognized for their work, and can actually make money writing. And I’m at a fabulous intersection of popular topics: I’m a woman, in tech, with three children, married-divorced-and-remarried, who loves creative things and nerdy things, was raised in foster homes, whose birth mother died of breast cancer, and who has physical and invisible special needs.

That’s a lot of things to unpack in one blog. Popular advice is to write what you know: I know a lot of stuff, but there’s a lot more that I don’t know…


I’m not the only adult who questions the decisions they’ve made.

A forest path separates into two paths heading different directions. One path is heavily travelled; the other is not.
A forest path separates into two paths heading different directions. One path is heavily travelled; the other is not.
Photo by Jens Lelie on Unsplash

Sometimes, adults have tough decisions to make.

Recently, I read a story here on Medium, written by J.L. Pattison. If you don’t want to read it (but it was definitely worth my time), I’ll summarize: his son got cancer, which wasn’t caught as early as anyone would hope. The resulting tumor had eaten so much of his son’s femur that most of the upper leg needed to be removed.

In short, J.L. and his wife had a few options for their son’s treatment, including:

  • full amputation — permanent disfiguration, requiring crutches or wheelchairs for the rest of his son’s life,
  • doing only chemo and hoping the tumor…

After 26 years, I’m ready to start telling my story of trauma and survival.

Words near a scar: I hope, presence, repair, redemption, loss, fear, pain, healing, fight, function, inclusion, confusion.
Words near a scar: I hope, presence, repair, redemption, loss, fear, pain, healing, fight, function, inclusion, confusion.
Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

I don’t know exactly when I left my birth family.

The details are fuzzy, but I was separated from my birth family when I was very young, sometime around my second birthday, I believe. According to my birth mother, my birth father was extremely abusive toward her, and my half-brother on my father’s side was abusive to me sexually. I can’t verify her story, as she has passed away, and I have no way to contact my birth father, and any records concerning that situation have either been lost to time, or are sealed.

I cycled through foster families for a while, living with at least three different families, primarily…


Here’s one Aspie’s inner monologue.

A plastic model of the human brain
A plastic model of the human brain
Photo by Robina Weermeijer on Unsplash

I read a blog post recently about a father who has watched his daughter “improve” since COVID-19. I have some thoughts.

On Wrapping Paper

I hate wrapping paper. It gives me paper cuts if I take it off nicely. I don’t like the sound it makes when you tear it. Why do we wrap gifts anyway? What’s the first thing people do when they unwrap a gift? They throw the paper on the floor, and then straight into a giant trash bag!

Why in the world are you wrapping people’s gifts in trash?!?

And you have to make a trip to the store…


As children, we believed they should. As adults, we never really stopped believing that.

Asian woman and child walking through water.
Asian woman and child walking through water.
Photo by MI PHAM on Unsplash

I’ve been going through a tough time lately.

More accurately, I’ve been going through a deep depression, and for good reason. I am just barely over a year postpartum, and in that year, give or take a couple months, I’ve:

  • struggled to breastfeed my infant — resulting in lots of tears, breast pain, and emotional battles over not providing my son’s most basic need in a way which was never difficult with his brothers
  • lost my full-time position, found and lost another full-time position, and had two contracts not renew — resulting in a seemingly never-ending job search, immense financial strain, intense emotional battles, and physical complications from…

Different doesn’t mean wrong, bad, or evil.

We look at the same moon, but live in diffrent[sic] worlds… (Photo by Arie Wubben on Unsplash)

Like many people, I need to describe the world around me.

To help me navigate the world, I describe the people and places and things that I encounter with labels; I try to seek out descriptors of only static (or near-static) qualities of the object being defined. These labels might contain one word or many words — whatever makes the label useful. For example:

  • Milk = drink/ingredient, liquid/powdered, sweet, blueish white, common, mammalian product
  • Lamp = bright/dark, barrier between human and lightbulb, consumes fuel

When combined, accurate labels help me to determine how I will interact with the labelled person or object, and help me to distinguish one object from another…

EdesRozsa

I am everything that ever happened to me, in one pleasantly bizarre package: married with 3 boys, Aspie, & nerd. Ask me anything: it's always free to ask.

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