Through all the years I have written here, I have always written honestly. Although I change some details to protect individuals and, ultimately, myself (although I think a fair few know who I really am), I really am the person you read here. I could never be anything else. After all the years of tears, self-destruction, disassociation, and therapy I am rather intrepidly me. I fuck up a lot, but at least I know that when I do, it’s the real me that did it.
sometimes I don’t know who I am, not really, but I know that inside of me is the capacity and capability to live a life without the lights switched on. I am not an optimist and don’t know how to be one. I am someone that trips and falls easily into depression and it is something that I will bear in mind forever. Just as I will never truly be ok with food and about my image, I know too that some of us are just born to get by with a little less sunlight on us.
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