I was inspired by the ruler of this blog’s recent post about his self-harm story so I wanted to chime in with mine. *I don’t want anybody to read this … Continue reading The Pain of Self-Harm
Something James said in his post (Its, Okay, not to be Okay …) about being trapped in the house and it taking years to get his life back. That resonated … Continue reading When taking your dog to the vet involves heroism
The first day on that stimulant was the night I became furious with myself in a conservatory practice room, blacked out (also known as having a dissociative fugue) and walked several miles out of town. When I came to, I called campus Safety and Security officers to drive out and pick me up. I got back to the dorm, popped two hydrocodone (my first attempt at self-medication), and stood outside of my room looking at the doorknob, feeling like there was a pane of glass between my outstretched hand and the door that I couldn’t possibly penetrate.