Comfort Zone: A Letter to My Depression

Another article of mine was published on The Mighty the other day! This one took a lot for me to submit – the thought of people reading it was terrifying, which I took as a sign that I had to do it.

https://themighty.com/2017/06/depression-ready-to-live-not-survive/

How My Tattoos Help ‘Heal’ My Scars

New article was published on The Mighty today! My second with them. 😀

themighty

What Dialectical Behavior Therapy Has Taught Me So Far

So excited to be published on TheMighty.com and be an official contributor! It’s obviously very personal to me and, I feel, really important.

https://themighty.com/2017/03/borderline-personality-disorder-bpd-dialectical-behavior-therapy-dbt/

The Freelance Life & Being Published

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The freelance life is tough. I’m both a freelance makeup artist and writer now, I guess. Ever since I started submitting my writing 6 months ago, I’ve kept this notebook, aptly named “Published Shit”. Paid or not, I add my published writings to it as a sort of keepsake. I’ve accomplished something I never thought would happen.

A few days ago, I received an acceptance email for my 3rd paid publication. Being able to add it to this notebook – the 10th entry – is pretty fucking cool.

Always Recovering, Never Recovered | World of Psychology

Thanks to psychcentral for publishing my piece on self-harm!

‘Always recovering, never recovered.’ A simple sentence that can be a harsh reminder. And that’s not to say your efforts or how far you’ve gotten were for naught, but to keep getting back up when you do fall. I’ve learned over the years, of course, that it’s extremely important to know you are not alone. Others are struggling and surviving alongside with you and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’ve always had a difficult time accepting the shame part. I’m very back-and-forth on my scars. On one hand, they’re a reminder of what not to do, proof I’ve held on this long. But on the other hand, I hate them. They’re a reminder that I was ever so weak to do such a stupid thing, and now I have to live with the physical proof. The amount of shame and guilt I’ve dealt with not only from myself, but a few loved ones as well, breaks my heart. I can’t help but feel they’re ashamed of me; of knowing me, being who they are to me, as they tell me to cover them up like a dirty secret. Maybe they don’t

Source: Always Recovering, Never Recovered | World of Psychology