The diagnosis, while not changing me as a person, helped me to understand myself better. It helped me to treat myself better.
People like that love company.
Sometimes my posts betray me. I snitch on myself, as the kids say.
I can’t just lay in bed all day. I have kids and responsibilities. Even if I didn’t, I still can’t stay in bed all day.
You don’t know what’s missing because you don’t even realize a piece should be there.
Whatever your situation is, no matter how universal it might feel, know that it’s different for almost everyone.
I may not have “gotten” it, but friends don’t need to “get” it. They just need to show you support. I hadn’t shown him support and it hurt to realize it.
There are so many pops and cracks, you’d think I was a walking pile of rap music record albums.
I want her to be a good person, not just to me, but to everyone.
“Who has seen me today? Did I talk to people like this? What is wrong with my face? Am I freakin’ melting?!”