PHQ-9

I want to believe I have this under control. I want to believe if they just give me another 6 or 9 months I can figure this out.

Salt Stained Rain

After a while, people stop wanting to hear about what you've been through. And I feel guilty talking about it half the time anyway, because I doubt my memories, and even when I stand firm, people still don't believe me. My birth family surely doesn't. They called me a liar, a lover of drama and... Continue Reading →

Maybe Next Year…

But I am of the eternal diaspora. One of many wandering children dwelling in tents in this vast wilderness. Home is a memory that I can’t remember. Rust and decay have eaten away at its core and corrupted its foundations.

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