🕯️ TRIGGER WARNING: This space covers abuse, coercion, sexual assault, suicidal thoughts, emotional manipulation, toxic relationships, and the grief of surviving what no one believed.
Read with care. Breathe when you need to. You’re not alone down here.

Welcome to the basement.

This isn’t a self-help blog. This is a raw archive of survival.
It holds the stories I wasn’t supposed to write down.
The ones I carried in my blood.
The ones I screamed in my sleep.
The ones that didn’t fit inside “It wasn’t that bad.”

This is where the truth gets its teeth back.

📂 Inside these walls, you’ll find:

– Detailed abuse pattern breakdowns with no sugarcoating
– Personal essays about surviving narcissistic partners
– Stories of sexual trauma, emotional collapse, and spiritual gaslighting
– Letters to the suicidal self that made it
– Parenting through PTSD
– Grief that stinks, breaks things, and speaks in full sentences
– Rage that is righteous, holy, and still here

There are no clean endings.
There are knife-sharp recognitions.
There is evidence. There is naming. There is blood-witness truth.

If you’re here to feel seen, you will.
If you’re here to feel safe, go slow.
Nothing here hides its teeth, but everything here knows why you stayed silent.

📡 You might find:

– Breakdowns of Lundy Bancroft’s abuse models with lived experience
– Confessions that could’ve saved me sooner
– Holy grief. Honest anger. The kind that heals by torchlight.
– Writings from the edge—about suicidal moments, religious trauma, and choosing to live anyway

This space was built for the ones who weren’t allowed to speak.
For the ones who were punished for being “too sensitive.”
For the ones who stayed, and then left, and still don’t know how to tell the story.

I built this place for us.

If you’ve got a story that won’t stay quiet anymore—
the mic’s still warm.
💌 louicrow@gmail.com

Read on.
Speak it.
Scream it.
Molt.

Welcome home, crowheart.
You’re allowed to feel it all now.