Yesterday marked 4 long, painful, agonizing months without seeing my Momma’s face. Without hearing her laugh. Without giving her a kiss on the cheek despite her horribly acted protests.
4 months and I still cannot say the “D” word. I still cannot say outloud what happened. I still refer to it as the situation. 4 months and I should be able to face the truth but I am not. I can not let go of the small, pleading voice that screams in my head for her to come out of hiding and just stand by me like she always did because I don’t know what the fuck I am doing out here on my own.
"Anxiety is not rude. Depression is not selfish. Schizophrenia is not wrong. Eating disorders are not a choice. Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder is not crazy. Mental illness isn’t self-centred, anymore than cancer is self-centred. It’s a medical illness."
"Twenty years from now it won’t matter what shoes you wore, how your hair looked, or what kind of jeans you bought. What will matter is what you learned and how you used it."
Make your own money.
Women, when your love comes it will be plentiful."
-First things first, Alex Elle (via alexandraelle)