Cure My Anxiety is out now.

This book didn’t arrive as a story.
It arrived in fragments.

Thoughts written mid-spiral.
Emotions stacked instead of sorted.
Words that existed long before they knew how to be gentle.

Cure My Anxiety is not meant to be read straight through.
It’s meant to be opened when the noise is loud.
Closed when the weight is too much.
Returned to when your breath finally slows.

These pages hold nights that stretched too far.
Hands shaking around cups gone cold.
The quiet relief of seeing your own thoughts written somewhere else.

It is not a cure.
It is a companion.

A gathering of feelings that refused to disappear—
so they were bound together instead.

And in many ways, this release feels like standing in the aftermath.