Tag: Mental Health
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She will not hear the same story
My mother used to tell me a fable. One passed down from mother to daughter, about a woman who would get trapped in her mind more and more as she aged. She’d return less and less to the present with each year. The only solution was to find a savior…
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By my hands alone I am new.
I took some time. I wasn’t planning to be gone for so long, but getting away felt too nice. My life is fully in my own hands; I reignited an agency I lost so long ago. I am ready to take action. Much can still go wrong, but I’m done…
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You have much further to go. You are only just beginning.
It gets better. I know this is likely obvious to some, but for a long time, I didn’t believe that. I was certain that things would never get better. Harm and negative events infect the brain. Seeping it of any hope for development, mapping it instead to insecurity and fear.…
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The molting of a past. The shells of pain. Anew I am born.
I recognize my need for this is less. I didn’t imagine this point. When I told myself I’d give myself until spring, that felt fruitless. It wasn’t. I’m not the same as I was when I started this. And there is still more to do. There is always more that…
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I want my life to be my own.
I fear that I am my greatest antithesis. Others can, and have, caused issues, but as I get closer to peace, I always find myself as the final obstacle. Peace is not a thing I’m great at. Facing one’s trauma is one thing, but unlearning the negative parts of yourself…
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To find an equilibrium of care and progress.
I’m trying to be considerate of myself. I may feel better, but I am not my mind alone. I’ve never been considerate of my body. That my body is also me, not simply something I occupy, and it needs to heal as well. It’s been exhausting; I’ve been exhausted. But…
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I am not simply a weighted, darkened soul. I am more.
Pain is a curious thing. I would not say I am past it, but I know I am much farther than I was when I started. Clarity like this will make you realize that you weren’t living before. That only now you are really living. I hate that a bit.…
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Never alone in the woods of all.
Harm is interesting. It has the power to define a person, but can also be rendered to a story alone. I was certain all that had happened would define me. And, though I still believe a hereditary madness is desperate to claim another of my line. For the first time,…
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I release you. In a way, I now understand.
Dear June, I’m sorry I didn’t save you. I’m sorry, I couldn’t. In these moments, I find I morn most—not what happened—but that I didn’t get to know you. You were not simply my mother. You were a woman who likely feared as I did. I imagine you were as…
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The weight that you cared more.
It was nearing spring break of my sophomore year. Since the call in November, I had been home every Saturday, and wallowed every Sunday. I skipped so many plans. I felt myself distancing from my roommates, my friends, and everyone. I wasn’t there; I couldn’t blame them. They always asked.…