Last Call at the Local (Love, Lists & Fancy Ships, #3)

by Sarah Grunder Ruiz

You deserve every good thing, even when you’re having dark thoughts. You deserve to be happy, even when you aren’t well. And love—you deserve that too.

But my problem isn’t that I don’t think. It’s that my brain only has two modes: think everything all at once and make sense of none of it, or think about one thing obsessively at the expense of whatever actually needs my attention.

“Aithníonn ciaróg, ciaróg eile,” he says. “It’s an Irish proverb. Roughly translated, it means, One beetle recognizes another.”

It doesn’t matter that I know I have to sit with the anxiety to feel better in the long run, when all I want is to feel better right now.