How cruel is our world that when we find ourselves crying over being told we are worthless and a waste of space, we tell ourselves to stop being a baby and making a big deal over trivial matters . . . because everyone has been told that.
crying
Day 125: Brave
I often feel like I’m not being brave when I do something scary or difficult. I’m shaking, wanting to give up, sometimes even crying or having a panic attack. But what I’ve come to realize is that being brave doesn’t always require having resilient emotional strength and unwavering confidence the whole time. Sometimes you’re being brave just by doing it at all.
Day 94: Untouched
As soon as I got home, I ran to the shower, still bawling my eyes out. Tap water joined the stream of tears, spit, and snot running down my face, but while my skin was washed clean, my aching heart stayed untouched.
Day 33: Tsunami
I expected it to be like a tsunami: a sudden, unstoppable flood of tears down my face, drowning in my own sobs. Instead, the pain made a small hole in my heart that slowly cracked and spread. The tears pooled just as slowly, my chest tightening, as if to keep the heart inside from falling apart. Tears dripped down my face like a slow leak, but as the erosion widened the hole in my heart, the emotions began to escape and gush out.
Another Crazy Dog Girl 