Latest posts
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learning to unpack boxes
I was in middle school the first time I became homeless. I don’t remember my mom telling me we were losing the apartment or that we would be staying with friends for a little while. I don’t remember being scared or afraid; just my mom telling me that we would be okay. We were homeless
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shame, group therapy, and Tokyo Ghoul
*Content warning: vivid descriptions of finger/skin picking in first paragraph, death described later, along with small spoilers for the manga, Tokyo Ghoul:re* Over the past six months or so, I’ve developed a bad habit of picking the skin around my fingernails. I didn’t really notice it at first. People had to point out that
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i can never be what i ought to be until you are what you ought to be.
I remember that she told me that after six years, she did not want to be my best friend anymore. She told me that her relationship with God mattered more than her relationship with me. She calculated her moves with her theology, beliefs, and goals and she determined it would be better to cut
Faith Marie 