13,181 Days Alive
I had a nightmare I was homeless again. Did not start my day off in a pleasant manner.
I spent most of the day wanting to draw. Or write. Or something. High stress situations have me seeking hobbies as outlets. Which is better than carving into my skin to help ground me, I suppose. And self-harm lacks a certain luster when you’re already constantly in pain have have fun and new bruises popping up everywhere overnight.
It’s so stupid. My body is so dumb.
I don’t really have anything else to say today.
I’m going to bed. I’ve appeased the Duolingo owl and made it to almost 700 days in a row on their app.
Take your meds, folks.
And come see me at Tampa Bay ComiCon this weekend!
Postmark Wonderland 