Alliteration is the lowest form of literary devices.
M&Ms which also goes together like a horse and carriage.
August always brings with it an unGodly terror. This year it is much worse.
“Try not to make a big deal out of it.”
This too shall pass.
In my experience it does pass, only to come back later, darker, undeadlier. And later means with less time, less options, less everything to deal with it. Off medication it is completely unbearable. On medication, dealing with it seems to be unglorified procrastination of sorts: “one day at a time.”
The cat is out of the bag. The doctors are either lying or they don’t know what they are talking about. Medication changes everything. The important shifts out of focus. The urgency is gone. The unacceptable becomes bearable. What used to feel like torture seems like something you can work with after all. Why shouldn’t I choose happiness? What’s so important about being authentic? And how do I know what my authenticity is?
