How I’m Really Feeling
On the days when my smile is the biggest and my laugh is the most boisterous, I wish someone would notice my eyes pleading quietly for a soft squeeze of the hand or a long hug.
On the days when my smile is the biggest and my laugh is the most boisterous, I wish someone would notice my eyes pleading quietly for a soft squeeze of the hand or a long hug.
Grief is a riptide that you don’t see coming until the world’s upside down...
We're not meant to remain in this state of chronic shock. And yet, here we are.
Your friends at school start to text you: Are you safe? Are you breathing OK? Are you hidden?
I am not ashamed that I endured an unsafe childhood and came out of it with some scars.
I was trying to expel things to make room for happiness. But the control never led to the happiness or relief I expected.
The most gutwrenching symptom of this disease is not the desire for death, but rather the fear of life.
My fight or flight response has been active for so long that stillness often feels agonizing.
I couldn’t name mental health. I couldn’t call my depression by its title when it came creeping up to scare me. Instead, I let it overstay its welcome.
"While I can label the thought all I want with words like negative, dark, disappointing—when I boil it down to the basics, it’s just a thought."
Though I have known these feelings most of my almost 52 years of life, I have only recently felt unable to manage them. Healing from trauma is so far from being linear.
I want to emphasize here how much we can get from practicing self-care, peer-to-peer support, and community support on our own.
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