sweetmuses
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According to Wikipedia, a midlife crisis is “a transition of identity and self-confidence that can occur in middle-aged individuals, typically 45 to 65 years old.” In Michael’s case, this includes a lot of hard conversations, reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, accidentally adopting his neighbor’s German Shepherd, and buying a secondhand motorcycle for some reason.
Hey, no one said that managing PTSD and emotional repression was ever easy.
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Be it as it may – considering all of the reasons why this is very much a bad idea – it was easier to pretend that this is a lucid, trauma-fueled fever dream. It was simply easier to forget the circumstances instead of confronting the logical reality that this really shouldn’t be happening. After all, she was about ready to pop his head off a few months ago. She should be sleeping in her bed right now, trying to nod off the nightmares.
Well go figure, Cassie McKay really loves making terrible decisions for herself. Big fucking whoop.
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The thing about rehab is that people expect it to fix you. All of your problems? They’re gone now, hurray! You can go back to normal life now! Soberity’s your best friend now, good luck! If only it were that simple. Otherwise, Frank wouldn’t be dealing with the wall of distrust and judgement that sits between him and everyone else.
Life just loves to tell him that he can go fuck himself.
AKA: Langdon went to rehab. Here’s the aftermath of it.
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Redemption is a hard, long journey. She knows this probably better than most people. You have to keep yourself afloat amongst the madness, being acutely aware of tipping back into the ether. It’s easier to live within the boundless ocean of guilt than to take accountability - because to take accountability means that you’re willing to work for it, and there’s no way of knowing when you’ll slip up and fall.
Or: A reflection on the in-betweens of life, ghosts, and the human condition, through the eyes of Cassie McKay.
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You’re not dead yet, but you sure as hell feel like it.
How one woman realizes she's falling apart.
Recent bookmarks
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In the aftermath of Dr. Robinavitch's unfortunate passing, PTMC has all members of the ED attend mandatory counseling sessions.
Bookmarked by sweetmuses
13 Feb 2026
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Hoʻoponopono — a Hawaiian forgiveness ritual meaning “to make right” — is grounded in Indigenous Hawaiian traditions of reconciliation, communal healing, and restoring harmony within families and communities. Traditionally guided by a kahu (a priest or elder), the practice involved group discussion, confession, apology, mutual forgiveness, and prayer. It was meant to resolve interpersonal conflicts and cleanse the spiritual, emotional, and relational space between individuals
In its modern adaptation, Hoʻoponopono has become a personal mantra of healing and accountability, often distilled into four essential phrases: I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you. These words, simple but profound, are meant to acknowledge harm, seek forgiveness, express gratitude, and reaffirm love — offering a path toward reconciliation not just with others, but within the self.
Bookmarked by sweetmuses
16 Jun 2025
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He keeps moving so he can keep breathing, like some deep-sea creature that thrives under a pressure that would crush most but who will slowly suffocate and die if it stops swimming. He hates this, and he loves this even if there are days he's sure that it doesn't love him back anymore - if it ever did in the first place.
Bookmarked by sweetmuses
11 May 2025
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There’s something, some words hanging on his throat that he wishes he could tell her though they never come. He thought he might have grown used to them by now but he’s surprised by it all over again.
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Bookmarked by sweetmuses
29 Apr 2025
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Olivia is no stranger to terror. She walked through its darkest corners, faced it head-on during those four long days William Lewis held her hostage. Felt its claws rake across her mind and body, and come out the other side. She’s felt fear flood her system, hot and blinding, until it eclipsed everything else.
But this—this is different.
This isn’t the sharp, immediate panic she knows so well. It’s quieter, more insidious—settling into her like a sickness she can’t shake. It seeps into her bones, dark and cold, leaving her raw and exposed, a nerve held taut beneath her skin.
It’s dread.
Bookmarked by sweetmuses
10 Nov 2024