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I found self love through a 15 pound weight gain

and other things I have to tell my therapist i. I gained 15 pounds in three weeks. ii. I can’t tell if my boundaries are getting more rigid or I’m just putting up walls. Again. iii. I gained 15 pounds in three weeks because instead of talking about my feelings, I ate them. Which I …

Abandoned: trigger warning

“Abandonment!” He exclaimed in the middle of our safety planning. “That’s your trigger! Whenever you feel abandoned or alone, you start to panic, start to relive the trauma, start to become suicidal.” Which makes sense when you know how the story ended. They say that speaking your truth allows for healing, that giving words to …

How does one put themselves first anyway?

“Do you have any tattoos?” was not a question I expected to be asked in the Psych ER. But there I was–curled up on what Plato would refer to as a couch that’s not ideal, with one of my friends next to me–so unprepared for the question that followed: “Do you have a boyfriend? Because …

Maybe home is more than just a place

Six months ago, I never thought I’d find myself here–in a room with white colored walls and a stippled ceiling, a place to call my own. “There’s no place like home.” Dorothy once said, as she tapped her ruby slippers Together one by one. “Home is where the heart is,” They all say as if …

Letter to a suicide note

I found you tonight, tucked away amongst books I haven’t read in years but love too much to throw away. I’m getting ready to move, packing books in suitcases and clothes in boxes because I can’t stay here forever. I can’t stay here forever: trapped in the past–but I can’t move forward until I move …

Apartment hunting in the age of depression

How does one even make a budget, I texted to my friend, a mixture of panic and frustration washing over me. Like, I know I need to move out, but I just don’t know how. I don’t know how to even begin apartment hunting, and besides. I have a crockpot and a mattress. Life has …

How trauma helped me find my words

The silence depressed me. It wasn’t the silence of silence. It was my own silence.- Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar Growing up, I was always told to use my words, but every time I opened my mouth, I was afraid the earth was going to swallow me whole. I was afraid of people telling me no–no, …