Apparently oversharing is embarrassing now.

There is genuinely no such thing as too much information to me. TMI? Tell Me Immediately. Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday? I needed to know. I want context. I want lore. I want the unnecessary backstory. I want the detail your friends told you not to post. Like, why am I just now finding out you’ve had a boyfriend FOR TWO YEARS? We literally sat next to each other in tenth-grade homeroom seventeen years ago. We’re practically family. Why is this information being revealed to me now? This is the kind of thing I would like access to.

That’s intimacy to me.

And maybe that says something about me. Actually, it definitely says something about me. But I also think it says something about the internet.

There used to be more room for weirdness. More room for honesty. More room for people to leave little pieces of themselves lying around without everything needing to be polished, strategic, or brandable. People used to post eight statuses a day like their internal monologue was a public service announcement. “ugh.” “nobody text me.” “wow.” No context. No explanation. Just vibes. And I loved that. Not because I think emotional instability is aspirational, but because people felt easier to find back then. Not physically. Emotionally.

You used to be able to get a sense of someone so quickly. What they loved. What they were embarrassed by. What kind of mood they were in. What song was ruining their life that week. What weird emotional era they were in. People left evidence. Proof of life. Proof that this exact version of them existed.

And maybe that’s what this is.

Not me trying to become a brand. Not me trying to be polished. Definitely not me pretending to be calmer, wiser, prettier, or more emotionally regulated than I actually am. God forbid.

This is just me needing somewhere to put things.

The thoughts I can’t stop having. The stories I keep retelling. The opinions I’ll probably outgrow. The books I aggressively recommend. The people I can’t quite let go of. The weird theories I form at 1:14 in the morning. The oversharing. Especially the oversharing. Please, and I cannot stress this enough, prepare yourself for oversharing.

Because memory is weird, and life moves fast, and entire versions of you disappear unless something catches them. And if I’m being really honest, as someone with bipolar disorder, I am not always the exact same person with the exact same thoughts, feelings, or worldview at all times. That used to scare me. Honestly, sometimes it still does. But all of those versions are still me. All of those thoughts belong to me, even the contradictory ones.

That’s what Delusions & Discernment is.

A place for thoughts, theories, emotional weather reports, questionable conclusions, terrible ideas, and whatever else is taking up space in my brain that day. A place where the messy version gets to exist. The overthinking version. The self aware but occasionally concerning version.

I genuinely do not care if ten people read this. I genuinely do not care if nobody does. That’s not fake humility. That’s the truth.

This is for me.

This is my weird little corner of the internet. My scrapbook. My evidence locker. My proof of life.

So welcome to Delusions & Discernment.

I kind of know what I’m doing.

But not really.