Author: Liz Petrone
I will pay it a hundred times over, for the simple pleasure of a beautiful sunrise or a mug of tea heavy in my hands or another mile run or a hug from a longtime friend or the smile of a stranger across a crowded room. By Liz Petrone
Sometimes I wonder still what would have happened if my mother and I had opened up to each other there in the kitchen. Could we have saved each other? By Liz Petrone
What you feel right now is real. It is not your fault. You can get help. In fact, I hope you do. Your people need you. This is not where it ends. By Liz Petrone
I know that life isn’t black and white like that. And if depression is the black and utter joy is the white, then maybe it’s in the in-between where the colors are, where I can find sorrow and joy often coexisting right in the same moment. By Liz Petrone
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