Home » Uncategorized » My Disorder Does Not Define Me

My Disorder Does Not Define Me


Woman-raising-armsYes, it lead me down a dark path of self-sabotage for years and left me in a lonely hollow hole of self-pity and near death begging; but I survived.

Yes, it choked the wind from my broken wings and flopped me heavy on pavement asphalt where I churned and burned and felt oddly; satisfied.

Yes, it made me different.

Yes, it kept me up all hours of the night writing feverishly about all the things you wake up sweaty and feverish too only to want to tell someone about but don’t want to re-live on the off chance that speaking it out-loud might make it come true.

Yes, it caused me to lose my friends, my family, and all things dear to me and left me alone on a dingy mattress in a basement of a house a friend I’d only known for several months pitied me to have. Until…

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