At the end of August my entire world fell apart. Not like kinda fell apart. Like, really fell apart. Everything felt uncertain and heavy - it was as if the universe was pulling all its stops to test me. Had the events of August happened three years earlier I would have probably landed back in the hospital. I would have probably been prescribed an anti-depressant. I would have probably thought there was no reason to go on - but instead I was smiling, making plans, journalling, drinking tea, thinking: this doesn't hurt the way it use to. Here are some reasons I think this might be.

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