There’s a reluctance to expose myself here, as I think it’s a fruitless pursuit, relished in self-absorption and a bit of melodrama.

I’m Jasmine, over the last couple of years, I’ve developed an identity Blaise, since the 2-syllable Jas-mine doesn’t appeal much to me and the possessive implication of ‘mine’ gets under my skin, as I know I don’t own anything, least of all myself.

My skin is my biggest insecurity. Since birth I was born with red, inflamed skin, a sign of dermatitis, which I have battled for decades, and am left with battle scars. I’m at a point in my life where I actively hide myself, because I consider the damage to be visually distasteful, and no one should have to see ugliness where it’s not wanted.

During spring of my first year of graduate school in mathematics, I was struck with a violent psychotic episode, lasting about a year where I disconnected from reality, and created what I am now proud of, but was for a long time ashamed to reveal. This psychosis permanently damaged me, though I am back to “reality”, my reality will never be the same, and a part of my brain has split irreparably.

With this splitting comes periods of dissociation, derealization and thought disorder. My short term memory is forever corrupted but I am a language-savant who compulsively fantasizes about the day I will be recognized for my brilliance.

This blog is for anyone who knew me, knew of me, or wants to know me.

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