Another night of weak sleep. It's a combination of things: guilt at snapping at my parents, distress over my daughter's problems, personal grief, pain and misery. On the bright side, my hips are fine. As in, they're still screwed but no worse than last year. Why then, the pain, the swelling, the vomiting? Referrals are …
“Reach out when you need help. Speak up when you are struggling. And if you don’t feel heard, yell louder because you are worth it and you are not alone.”
It was a Sunday afternoon in August and I had just finished eating a piece of banana bread with coffee to celebrate the $8,000 goal I reached as a part of the pre-launch campaign for my book, Good Enough.
I sat in awe, overwhelmed by all of the love and support I received from others and thought to myself,This is finally happening.My dream is coming true. I’m going to be a published author.
Before continuing my day of celebration, I decided to check the emails I’d abandoned while finishing up the campaign. In it, there was a message from my friend Kyle that read this:
“Idk if ya care anymore but thanks beyond. Best to ya Car.”
Attached to the email was a song calledFollaton Woodsby Ben Howard and I instantly knew my friend was not okay. Moments later, I received a message from…
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I'm intimately acquainted with self-harm and have the scars and open sores to prove it. It's a strange behaviour, one that's hard to understand even when you engage in it. It's hard to talk about and hard for the people in your life to "get". It's hard for them to know how to help and …
This scar marks the place where you were. This wound marks the place where you are.Remarks on marks.