depression…

i tried everything–praying, journaling, painting, meditation, crafting, and hiking. i had no desire for the chains that locked away my soul. my happiness was destroyed. my physical appearance suffered. my ass wider. my tits were larger. my stomach got bigger. my thighs grew thicker.  my peace was brutally murdered. and at twenty nine, i had became a borderline diabetic and a self diagnosed alcoholic. dr. young became concerned. other than her, who would understand what i was going through? no one i thought. not family & friends, nor him. i spent more time listening to their problems and internalizing them. subsequently, our burdens became a reflection in my weight that transmitted onto the scale. so it became one more cup for me, two more shots for them. i lost control.  i needed help. so i finally agreed. i received medical support to free my broken soul from chains trapped in the twenties gal’s dark hole.

[These are my open notes. Over the next month, I am making them public until my birthday on April 14th. Next up, acceptance.]