There are moments in life that split you wide open. Moments that burn the blueprint of who you thought you were into ash.

For me, it was the death of my daughter, Arya Rose.

She was only two months old. A soft breath of angel light. Her loss shattered every veil I had between this world and the others. Suddenly, I wasn’t just grieving a baby—I was reliving the downfall of Atlantis. I was collapsing through timelines, drowning in multidimensional sorrow, dying again and again inside my own skin. I lost my health, my mind, my community… and in many ways, I lost myself.