This is an essay by a friend which struck me in a way I can’t quite explain. The extreme mindfulness spoken of here feels very much like the painful, self-imposed revelations I’m undergoing in counselling. I think I’d rather be a robot…
Slightly Broken: Letters from the past
I am a hoarder. I keep everything. Even the birthday cards and letters from someone who abused me. I know, right? It strikes me as
