I would trade all my tomorrow’s for just one yesterday.
Our secrets make us sick.
I only sleep with people I love, which is why I have insomnia.
Just because I have a chemical imbalance in my brain and a distorted body image doesn’t mean that the things I see and feel aren’t real.
Reality is subjective.
What we experience is real to us. Mental illness isn’t an excuse to invalidate what someone says is real.
And like the sea, I’m constantly changing from calm to hell.