My dad died by suicide on December 20, 2023.

Sunflowers in December is a place where grief is allowed to stay messy.

It’s a home for poems, memories, long-winded reflections, and the kind of survival that doesn’t always feel triumphant. The overarching theme of this blog is my healing journey, but it focuses a lot on grief.

I started reading poetry after my dad died. It was the first time I felt truly seen, when someone else’s words captured something I didn’t know how to say. It didn’t take long for me to start writing my own. Nature helps me make sense of things. It’s easier to parallel what I’m feeling to something outside myself—dirt, storms, roots, sunflowers.

Sunflowers have always been special to me. They were the flowers my dad gave me for high school graduation, and the ones he planted in his garden every year just for me. Since he passed, I’ve inherited that garden…and his chickens. With my hands in the dirt, that’s where I feel closest to him.

This blog is part of my healing, not only from my dad’s death but working on my own mental health. I’m rediscovering who I am. Unlearning, relearning, and letting the version of me that’s been buried finally grow roots and bloom.

I write as n.1
A pen name pulled from what my dad used to call me: Number One.
A small tribute. A way to write through what hurts without having to hide.

I created this blog for people like me:
the ones still standing in the ruin,
still trying to make something soft out of what’s been hard for way too long,
drowning in depression.

Here, you’ll find:

• Free verse poetry and grief writing
• Letters I never sent
• Tangled, messy thoughts
• Lessons learned from chickens and broken things
• My journey to healing—grief, my inner child, and my overall mental health
• Dark humor

This isn’t a self-help blog.
It’s survival—feral and honest.

Welcome to my grief garden

My survival kit — resources that have helped me
Help is here — general mental health resources