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Doubt is a Mother

I’m really doubting myself right now. Doubting my abilities as a writer, as an employee, a wife. I feel like I don’t have much to offer. I don’t know why these people keep me in their lives — maybe they feel bad for me and know I’d be alone without […]

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The Farce Report

“Out of all the times I’ve seen you, this is the best I’ve felt.” — me “That’s great. You are making progress.” — my psychiatrist Poor guy. I wasn’t intentionally lying. I honestly felt like I was doing soooo great. That was about two weeks ago. Now that I’ve cried

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Birthday Blues

It’s my mother’s birthday on Friday. I never considered her birthday to be a trigger for my childhood trauma, but alas it is. When I say childhood trauma, I’m not referring to physical abuse or sexual abuse, neither of which I have experienced (surprisingly, considering the amount and quality of

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Junk in my Trunk

Between Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert and an article I read in The Mission Newsletter, I am writing for the sake of writing. Because that’s how books are written. The author writes. Writes a lot. And I have not been writing. Anything. But now I am. Could this post get

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You are always enough.

I bought a journal off of Amazon with these words. My counselor and I are working on this concept – I’m good enough where I am. Sure, I could be better, healthier, skinnier. But that doesn’t make me good. I am already good. Enough. I haven’t decided what I’m going

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