These are just a few of the *lovely* thoughts that my inner critic tells me sometimes. Over the years since I have gotten to my critic, our relationship has gone from one of hate, fear and anger to one of understanding and love.

I used to think that healing was this nebulous thing. An unknown and unattainable concept that other people understood, but not me. I mean, how do you know when you’ve healed something emotional? It’s not like you can take off the band-aid and see the physical proof!

One of my greatest coping tools throughout childhood was writing. It felt, at times, as if my sheer survival depended on my ability to escape into my room, put pen to paper and scribble out words, phrases, pictures, and poems. I documented my thoughts, my habits, endless lists, streams of consciousness, and sporadic trains of thoughts that change route mid-sentence.