Lexapro — Neither friend nor foe. Merely, companion.

I am a bit terrified to be writing about this, but…

…Here I go. I have decided that writing can indeed be therapeutic.

I have been looking for a way to get out of my crazy making space. To find something that feels more grounded, and yet, more surreal, empty, and open. A place that I can make into whatever I want it to be.

And it can be whatever I want it to be. No one has control over these words except for me. And so, I think that’s pretty damn awesome.

I used to think that things happened to me (bad things, unfortunate things) for random reasons. I wondered why I had such a difficult time relating to others. Why my relationships often seemed to be shallow. And how they’d turn sour or cold when I would start to get close to someone.

When I found out I had Borderline Personality Disorder, it all made sense. The diagnosis is both terrifying and freeing.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.