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My greatest asset and my captor

Words appear as I think them like a karaoke video in serif font on a white background. Sometimes I’ll be doing the dishes and I’ll start repeating paragraphs I’ve drafted and editing and rearranging them and adding to them in my mind and they shift around visually as I’m doing it. Sometimes other words or phrases will get caught in there and they’ll quietly pass back and forth like a sky banner. Songs are often drifting through—right now it’s Pale September by Fiona Apple—and if there’s a particularly beautiful or resonant part it’ll loop through that snippet a few times. I think almost entirely in words, in monologue and in text, with very faint flashes of associative images—I imagine this is to protect me from the dark and horrific things I’ve seen in my life that would be too much to bear if I were to be exposed to them in such a visceral way. I can’t rotate or even envision a shape to save my life. Rarely, strong images will appear to me in conscious life—I remember lying in bed, about to fall asleep, and suddenly seeing from the point of view of an investigator entering a pitch black cave with a lantern held in his hand as his only light, about to discover something terrible, no doubt. My dreams are vivid and laden with powerful symbolism, and usually there is a sense of being too afraid to fully step into my power or claim what’s mine. I have the memory of an elephant, with everything filed in nearly chronological order. I’m sure I tend to embellish and dramatize without realizing but then I think my memories speak to a certain distilled emotional truth, more accurate than pure facts. Sometimes there are some incredible blind spots in my perception that I don’t realize existed until years later. I analyze and intellectualize everything. I’ve been told that my mind is obsessive and tends to fixate. Sometimes the emotions that I keep trapped in the basement push their way up through the trap door and threaten to stampede me as their captor but I manage to stuff them back down again until I’m ready to let them go; some of them may never see the light of day.

@taterhole

Feb 15, 2025

10

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Navel-gazing (reading my own pi.fyi)

I have some good ideas

@caroline

Apr 21, 2024

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I think i need this

Sometimes in my mind I call myself a writer. And i ramble on for hours in notes all alone. I write and write like im pouring my soul into a cup for the worlds consumption. But after hours of writing i realise its just me sitting at the table sipping wistfully at that cup i thought i was pouring for others. And so it happens again and again and i write in ways that make me feel mighty and profound but in reality that might just be from the toxins my body creates in the process of constant regurgitation and consumption. So yes to put it plainly i would love to be part of this. I want to try share my cup and for people to either reject it or consume it. Even if no one drinks it at least there will be other people at the table beside me.

@missingmurphy

Feb 2, 2025

1

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Starting over

“Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage.” — Anaïs Nin This is uncharacteristically raw and personal, even for me, and pretty heavy! I know many of you have seen me posting through it and I feel safe to talk about it openly now that I’ve safely landed at the start of my new life. It’s honestly even a little bit embarrassing but I think it’s important to share. I’ve never publicly mentioned it on here, but I have a husband; as of Friday, we’d have been together for 11 years, and we’ve been married for 3 years as of 2/22. I realize now that I wanted to explore what I looked like outside of my relationship with him because I had lost that. This is why PI.FYI has been so meaningful to me as a space to express myself and connect with people—to rediscover my voice. I had been living a lie this entire time, to others but worst of all to myself. He’s been verbally and emotionally abusive, physically but without touching me, to the point that every day I spent with him I was in danger. I’ve been shrinking myself and walking on eggshells to avoid making him insecure and provoking his casual put-downs and fits of rage, while hanging on for dear life to the threads of good I could see. I’ve wanted so badly to leave, more than anything, but I felt like there was no way out and that this was just something I would need to endure indefinitely—but someone who is so very dear to me helped me see that I have wings to fly, not by acting as my savior but by reminding me of my own power. The emotional safety they built and the gentle care they showed me made me feel like I could open up to them. With their encouragement I was brave enough to tell the truth to my friends, my family, my boss, and they have received me with warm, loving and open arms and rallied to support and protect me. The financial and  logistical aspects were the most intimidating to me and it’s going to be tough for a while but I’m going to be better than okay! Now I’m opening up to you. This isn’t the only abuse I’ve suffered in my life, and my old therapist told me she believed it was my mission to share my strength and light with others to inspire them and show them that change is possible. I hope that by sharing this, I can reach even just one person who is going through something similar and show that they are not alone, and they are not weak. People with certain backgrounds may be more vulnerable to abuse, but it can happen to anyone. It thrives in darkness, shame, and isolation—and breaking that silence is the first step toward freedom. Leaving is the scariest thing I have ever done but I have so many angels around me, and I am endlessly grateful. Thank you for being here with me 💌

@taterhole

Mar 16, 2025

62

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Never changing

My dad teases me about how when I was a little kid, my favorite thing to do when I was on the landline phone with somebody—be it a relative or one of my best friends—was to breathlessly describe the things that were in my bedroom so that they could have a mental picture of everything I loved and chose to surround myself with, and where I sat at that moment in time. Perfectly Imperfect reminds me of that so thanks for always listening and for sharing with me too 💌

@taterhole

Feb 23, 2025

34

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Finally Quitting the job that you hate

Schedule sent my resignation email for the morning, effective immediately ✅💅

@taterhole

Feb 27, 2025

48