Cussing, Crying, and Coping

Hi. I’m a grieving parent. I’m sober. And some days, that feels like a sick joke.

Cussing, Crying, and Coping was born because I couldn’t find a place that told the truth—like, the whole messy, ragey, ugly-crying, emotionally-wrecked, still-standing truth—about what it’s like to lose a child and not reach for the bottle.

I’m not here to preach. I’m here because writing helps me not lose my damn mind.

This blog is my unfiltered grief journal. It’s also my sober scream into the void. Sometimes it’s angry. Sometimes it’s hopeful. Sometimes it’s funny, because if I didn’t laugh at how absurd this all is, I’d never stop crying.

Whether you’ve lost someone, you’re white-knuckling sobriety, or you’re just here for the “holy sh*t this is real” kind of honesty—weirdly, beautifully, you’re not alone.

Welcome to the wreckage.

Bring your cuss words. Bring your Kleenex. Bring your heart.

We’ll cope together.