Hi hello weirdos.
As usual, this space languishes. Do you know what the worst part of a mental health journey is? It’s the space between one mental health disorder and another. Dragging yourself out of the abyss of depression to be sucker punched in the solar plexus with the crippling anxiety about the future.
I’m no boxer, but that’s cheating, right? I know I can and will get better. But dang it my growth plates are fused. I’m not getting any taller, trust me. (I’ve asked.) Why the fuck does growth have to hurt so much?
I think I just want reassurance that this won’t be forever. I guess I just want to know I’m not alone.
jfc I’ve gotta stop being a broken record. Vinyl is fucking expensive.
Anyways, original words arranged cutely soon.
Later weirdos💀
Ink & Tome 