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There seems to be an emerging pattern in my life of not having anyone to talk to at crucial moments. Could it be that I only share the fun bits of my life, the parts that match my Insta feed? The idea makes me pause.
The diatortion of truth so everyone thinks you are ok..the farce the facade. But who can save you bhut yourself
The last week or so has made me confront things about myself that I hadn’t been aware of – and it’s hard.
maelstrom
coolly
quorate,’
‘Just because other people have it tougher doesn’t make your problems any less valid.’
haberdashery?’
stola.
was. I’m learning that I am more than just my job, and the tablers most definitely are. But I can’t defend them without fessing up to my secret, and, even though I’ve come a long way, I’m not quite ready for that, it seems. Felix, meanwhile, is still going on about how hard he’s worked to get where he is and how other people should do the same, and doesn’t seem to
incredulity.
convinced. Part of me feels that I should be apologising for letting her down. I’ve blown any bragging rights she had with her friends by losing my fancy-pants job and probably spoiled her self-image as mother of a successful child.
Ugh the dissatisfaction and feeling as tho you can no longer uphold your value wiyhon your role pf the family given you are unemployed or the stttaus quo has changed
aft?’
As the machines hum and the banter flies around the studio I set up an Insta account for Time for Beds using one of the cartoon PJ images as the profile picture. I write a bio explaining what we’re about and add a link to the website.
Ahhh see she can intersect her former hobbies despite losing her job...so she isnt just floting. She can utilize her skills still!