Thirteen Reasons Why

by Jay Asher

but it matters. In the end, everything matters.

A single bead of sweat slides down my temple and I wipe it away.

Thats not dramatic at all

In Health, we once saw a documentary on migraines. One of the men interviewed used to fall on his knees and bang his head against the floor, over and over during attacks. This diverted the pain from deep inside his brain, where he couldn’t reach it, to a pain outside that he had control over. And in a way, by vomiting, that’s what I hoped to do.

I did not want to act like everything was okay, because it wasn’t.

the struggle becomes too much—too tiring—and you consider letting go.

This time, for the first time, I saw the possibilities in giving up. I even found hope in it.

Will I ever get control of my life?

Because even though my legs stopped running, my mind keeps going.

It’s there that I first started to consider . . . to consider . . . a word that I still cannot say.

Summer 2019:

I did that for a while. Poetry, not a therapist.

I needed a break . . . from myself.

My deepest and my darkest? What are you, my gynecologist?

I was afraid of dealing with myself.