eleanor

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To me, recovery felt much more like surrendering, like giving up the fight, like turning my back on a trusted friend, like lying down on the ground and finally conceding, ‘Yes, I am worthless.’ But that’s not an empowering narrative either. To live, to succeed, to thrive in this meritocratic society, we are compelled to deny and disprove our own worthlessness.
The Opposite of Butterfly Hunting: The Tragedy and The Glory of Growing Up: A Memoir
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