Pinky promise me: That you’ll never give up hope.
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I just met with my dietitian (these days, on FaceTime), and I told her I was reluctant to share something with her because I was afraid she’d take it and run with it. Well, I told her anyway, because it’s where I’m at today—where I’ve been at for nearly two weeks, actually. I’m considering not… Continue reading A Strange New Idea
I had a psych-ward-style breakdown this past December 2nd. The rape happened on that date in 2012. That’s given me eight years to get over it. And I’m not over it at all. My therapist helpfully pointed out that I was drunk for six of those eight years—implying that, perhaps, the healing will come in… Continue reading Why I Haven’t Pressed Charges in 8 Years, and Why I May Not Ever
TW: sexual abuse, child abuse, PTSD, death “Mountaineers, however, always find themselves a reserve of power after great exhaustion. It is a kind of second life, available only in emergencies like this; and, having proved its existence, I had no great fear that either of us would fail.” John Muir I’m telling myself it’s the… Continue reading A Reserve of Power: Pacing Myself for the Second Half of the Marathon
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