Every entry, held quietly.

The first time I said out loud that I wasn't okay, I said it to a stranger in a coffee shop. She was reading a book I liked. I don't know why it came out. She didn't flinch. She just closed her book and said, "I'm really…

I used to think growing up was linear. A tidy climb toward some steadier version of me. It isn't. Some mornings I wake up feeling whole, and by dinner I'm twelve again, replaying a conversation I can't change. What I'm l…