Does anyone else live with the assumption that they are constantly doing something wrong? That at any minute you’re going to be in trouble, or get yelled at and told how shitty you are? No one actually says that, but it’s how you feel. All.of.the.time?? Just me? Okay great 🙃 Feelings. So many damn feelings If you can relate, I’m sorry. I am sorry that someone in your life made you feel like everything you did, or said was the wrong thing. I’m sorry that you couldn’t find your voice when you needed to. I’m sorry you felt you had to be a peacemaker (or worse, a doormat) to hold…

‘The broken will always be able to love harder than most. Once you’ve been in the dark, you learn to appreciate everything that shines.’ ~Zachry K. Douglas Some days the light is just a tiny flicker, but it’s always there. I choose to love hard. I choose to shine. Even when it’s hard. Even when it’s not reciprocated. Even when it’s uncomfortable for me… which is always. I know what it feels like to sit in the dark. Most days the dark still shows up, but I’m learning to try and keep my light on too. I am learning to trust and let people in again. I am slowly learning…

Bullshit. ‘Time flies.’ ‘Time is money.’ ‘Time marches on.’ ‘Time gets wasted.’ ‘Time stands still.’ There are so many quotes about time. Most of them are on point. Most of them make sense to me. Except for one. Time heals all wounds Does it? Does time actually heal all wounds? Merriam-Webster defines the word heal as : to make well again : to restore health. To make sound or whole To make well again. To make WHOLE. There is absolutely no fucking way to find your way back to ‘well’ or ‘whole’ when you’ve lost half of the pieces that made you who you are. No amount of time is…

Anxiety. For the sake of this entry I will be referring to anxiety as a she. I’d rather label it as something tangible, like a person instead of ‘just’ an emotion that is hell bent on destroying the best parts of who I am. My house, my rules. So for now, I’m referring to anxiety as a she, and she is a bitch. She shows up at the worst possible times and in the shittiest fucking ways. Anxiety and I are not friends. In fact I despise everything she is, and everything she bullshits my brain into accepting as truth. You’d think that she’d take the hint and stop showing…