Based on some technical bullshit I barely survived. Ever try to fix yourself and crash even harder? Welcome to the glitch.

This isn’t the internet.
It’s the inner-net—and it’s rigged with trauma-coded software that runs silent scripts like “this is your fault” even while you’re bleeding from someone else’s damage.

In this Whirld, I’m the virus and the firewall.
The user. The glitch.
The mental health error message that won’t clear no matter how many times I hit reboot.

Every Friday, a new loop drops:
Written mid-panic attack, mid-shutdown, or in the middle of that familiar spiral:
“Why the f*ck do I still do this?”

You’ll meet the whole cast of corrupted coping mechanisms:

• 🧠 Gigi — the emotionally unstable green goat therapist offering unsolicited trauma advice, brutal truths, and zero refunds. Loud, unlicensed, and always caffeinated.
  
• 🐾 Lucy Bug — my emotional support disaster. She chases toxic validation, rolls in red flags, and breaks everything but the root cause.
  
• 🐈‍⬛ Shadow — the ghost of every self-destructive pattern I swore I’d healed. Shows up uninvited. Hides under the bed of your progress.
  

This isn’t healing. It’s debugging trauma with shaky hands and a sarcastic goat screaming,
“Have you tried turning yourself off and back on?!”

If you’ve ever cried over a broken phone screen like it was the last straw (because it was)…
If you’re tired of masking emotional dysregulation as a “quirky personality trait”…
If your neurodivergent nervous system feels like a search engine set to “shame”…

You’re in the right Whirld.  The system didn’t glitch because of you. The system was never built for you.

You’re not broken. You’re just running on inherited code you didn’t install. Let’s rewrite it—one crash at a time.