Counting has become the only thing that can both soothe my nerves and cause panic in my heart.
Because society places so much pressure on female-identifying bodies, the urge to control your own is seen as manipulative and self-indulgent.
With constant stimuli from all directions, it can be hard to unwind and unplug from it all.
The only thing I hate more than being psychoanalyzed while naked is someone thinking they can tell me something about myself that I don’t know.
I find myself getting lost in a daydream, one where I am unfazed and malleable to dramatic and positive change.
It’s not okay for me to take my moods – however clinically diagnosed or overwhelming they may be – out on the people I love.