And I created

I didn't need wine.

Or lots of chocolate.

I didn't need sex or bread.

I wrote.

I wrote and I wrote, and it wasn't painful.

It didn't cause anger, shame, or sadness.

It was just writing.

For the first time in a long time, I didn't need to cope.

I was able to look at pieces of my company without negative emotion.

I was asked to create, and I created.

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Then I'm back.

A cool breeze brushes my face on my morning run. Then I'm back in Tenessee. Going on my morning run near our apartment. I feel the same cool breeze. Feel the same emotions. Depression. Pressure. And h

It's too good to be true.

To have these moments. Leave a self-defense class. More and more confident each week. Wearing my nice yoga pants. Drive to my mom's to drop off fresh pears from the farmer's market. We rest. On rockin

How do I know

That I'm me? I feel creative I want to write Or cook Or make jokes Or learn I'm not exhausted, obsessive, or anxious That's how I know.