Fragments and Fire

Hi. I’m Allie. I’m 54, disabled, neurodivergent, a thyroid cancer survivor, a mother, and a woman who’s had to fight harder than most just to have the basics of peace, dignity, and safety.

I’m not here to sugar-coat things — survival has been my full-time job for as long as I can remember.Nothing in my life has come easy. Not family. Not love. Not housing, money, health, or support.

I’ve been disowned for setting boundaries. Ghosted for having feelings. Abandoned the moment I stopped being “convenient” for other people.

Right now, I’m juggling seven separate legal battles. Not for fun, but because I’ve been wronged — repeatedly — and I’m still trying to claw back what’s mine.

On top of that, my body’s carrying conditions like fibromyalgia, MCAS, hypermobility, diabetes, and more. And when you live in constant stress, your body doesn’t just feel it — it breaks down under the weight of it.

My house is full of things that don’t work — including the energy. My ex still refuses to remove his belongings, so my space isn’t really mine. My bathroom is so cramped and broken I’ve stopped properly caring for myself, even when I want to.

My environment reflects what I’m trying to heal from — and I hate that.

Still, I’ve started saving for a new kitchen. Because even after everything, I still believe I deserve a space that feels like home.

This blog isn’t a story of triumph.

Not yet.

I’m still in the middle of it — still overwhelmed, still healing, still trying to hold on to hope.

But this is a truth story. It’s a space to be real when everything else demands that we perform.

Here’s what you can expect from me:

** Unfiltered honesty about disability, trauma, neurodivergence, and the fight to be seen.

** Reflections on family, love, and what it means to be left behind — and still keep going.

** Rage, softness, grief, strength, and the tiniest flickers of joy that remind me why I keep trying.

** A fierce belief in justice — even when the odds are against me.

If you’ve ever felt like you’re the only one screaming into the void, or like you’re rebuilding your life on top of broken ground — this space is for you. I’m not here to sell healing. I’m here to offer solidarity.

Welcome to my world.

I’m Allie.

And I’m still here.