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“I wish I had cancer. Or some other grand battle. Dementia, stroke, organ failure. If I lose those fights, I’m brave. But the thing I’m battling is my mind. And if I lose, they’ll just call me weak.”
Of course, nothing screamed “I’m not okay” more than telling yourself that you were okay.
that I know the world is cruelly screwed up, but there are reasons to survive.
Tears are the language of grief. And grief is the language of love.
