His name is Twitchy. His office is a treehouse. His license is theoretical. His audience is real.


Twitchy spent three years of insomnia reading the entire trauma literature. Bessel van der Kolk, Gabor Maté, Pete Walker, Stephen Porges, Resmaa Menakem — cover to cover, sometimes twice. He can name every adverse childhood experience and explain polyvagal theory in under a minute. He emerged informed but not regulated. A peer who has seen the whole map and still cannot find his way out of a paper bag.
Confident in his command of the material, he applied to a licensure program. They rejected him for being a squirrel.
He took this personally. He launched his own practice anyway.
Amanda D. Langford, PMHNP-BC, is his self-appointed (technically court-appointed, in a court of his own imagination) mentor. This arrangement was not her idea. She has come to accept it. He cites her in his videos. He insists on calling her his licensed friend. She tolerates him because his audience genuinely benefits, because he refuses to leave, and because — privately — he's not wrong about most of the material.
He films at 3am because he can't sleep. He runs on caffeine, spite, and the suspicion that he was right and the licensure board was wrong.
Build the capacity. Rewire the response. The neuroscience is real — and twitchier than you think.
Last night I learned that polyvagal theory has critics. I have not slept since. The licensed human says this is not a personality. We disagree.
— Twitchy, June 2026
Each one is a small clinical thing in a soft wrapper. The licensed human wrote the contents. The squirrel chose the titles.
A 5-day field guide for the achievers, helpers, and perfectionists who hold it all together while running on empty.
Get the field guideDaily foundational practice for felt-sense relief. The licensed human's clinical protocol, narrated by the squirrel.
10 signs you've been saying yes when you meant no. The recognition guide before the workbook.