Life has kicked my ass so hard the last few months. Divorce, appendix bursting, life threatening allergic reactions. I was trying so hard to do the right thing-I didn't realize I had let pure evil into my life.
I discovered a new Lula-one who wasn't afraid to go to the mall by herself, one who felt beautiful, strong, sexy-amazing in general.
Then all hell broke loose. Actually ended up spending a few days in the loony bin. In the words of my admitting psychiatrist-"This is the worst possible thing that could have happened to you." I keep trying to find the lesson in all this, because everything happens for a reason, right?
There is no lesson. I did everything right. I followed my heart, and I let down my walls, and I got burned. Bad. I lost myself pretty bad there for a minute.
I think the reason this happened to me is so I could help an amazing teenage girl who is hurting. This happening to me has enabled me to be her voice, and hopefully what happened to her will be a little less painful. I will speak for her, and hold my head high, and not be ashamed by the actions of another.
"I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing"-Agatha Christie
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