2018 was a great year for personal growth, the highlight being finally prioritizing my mental health and starting […]
It’s an odd thing to feel as if you’re a good friend and not see it reciprocated. Partly […]
I feel home where they are
I have lost a lot of friends in my short twenty three years. I’ve detached myself from a […]
I never learned how to process trauma as a kid. When something bad happened I got sad, maybe […]
So, I am curious: when does one become a “slut”?
I love him and everything is great. I feel safe like everything I have ever worried about no longer matters and every fear I have in life can never touch me. But I don’t want to marry him.
I couldn’t believe how healing the entire process was: the writing itself, the discussions prior to publishing, and then the conversations it allowed me to have after it was published. It felt like scrubbing myself clean after years of feeling a mix of blame and shame and disgust and numbness.
“I wouldn’t define myself as an alcoholic, despite the doctors scare tactics. But I believe that because my problem doesn’t fit into the definition of alcoholic, it’s almost as though I’ve given myself permission to stay immersed in this problem I have.”
“I guess I come back to you in my mind when I do feel “crazy.” Crazy for being nostalgic over a bad friend, for me being a bad friend, and for our messed up friendship.”