Back at zero, my “wins” went from “writing recognition from my mentor,” to “garbage was out before the trucks came on Thursday morning.”
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On the corner of exasperation was a part of me, so angry at myself, that I couldn’t break free of this neighborhood, the corner of shame was the version of me who was self loathing for even trying. The name of the neighborhood: guilt.
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Because that’s life after loss, friends. I can have weeks like this; sad days and mad days. I can look back and be filled with the pain of yesterday…and then the moment passes.
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