After numerous misfortunes and blows to the head, I was diagnosed with having received a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI). Symptoms include episodes of short term memory loss, and loads of word vomit. My psychotherapist told me to start a journal and that’s exactly what I did. I started writing about everything I can think of: mental illness, my OCD and clumsy moments, moments of depression, anxiety, mental blocks and panic attacks, random thoughts and worries. I started writing about the past, my goals and aspirations, my fears and life lessons. I wrote myself into a frenzy. All I want to do is write, and so I do!
Part advice, part personal theories, trying to piece together life’s tough questions. From heartache, to lust, and everything in between. Sometimes I’m hilarious, and sometimes I’m
a real bitch not so pleasant. It really depends on what time of the month it is (you’ll soon figure out my menstrual cycle calendar). Most of all I’m honest (sometimes too honest). I don’t write when I’m depressed (it’s really depressing. . . plus all I can write about is comfort food and cats—and Chris Farley).
I hope you enjoy my blogs and random shit! To all publishers out there: Please save me from a life of male-dominated trade work and send me on a book tour! I promise I’ll stay medicated!
P.S. I am not, and never have been, medicated. I love my emotions.
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