I haven’t given up on myself quite yet. And neither have my friends, thankfully.
Sleep and I are not friends. This new medication seems to be trying to change that.
I was telling my friend about a half-remembered Superman story from a Holiday Special from what had to have been the mid-90’s when they spouted this observation that sent me into a wave of warmth and nostalgia.
I, too love stories about Superman talking someone off the ledge.
A good first date.
Watching Die Hard with friends as part of a Christmas celebration.
My mother’s dog passed away and learning this made me incredibly homesick.
You can only listen to a show so many times backstage before the lines that need to be cut start becoming setups to increasingly terrible and mean spirited jokes.
Or is that just me?
Yes, I do pull ups back stage.
Baking is relaxing, restorative.
I’ve felt a lot of anger, I’ve accessed the feeling of fighting back, but I’ve never let myself be truly angry at him. I don’t know why.
But that’s exactly why I’m in therapy.