Sometimes recovery looks like misshaped pancakes.

This post sums up recovery in a nutshell! Kaitlyn hits the nail on the head with this post! Great read.

With Being Alive

When most people cook pancakes, they end up looking like the masterpiece baby of Betty Crocker and the sun. All golden brown, perfectly circular, stacked like a spring.

Are those pancakes even real?

This morning, I took it upon myself to get out of this little funk hanging above my head. A fiesty, fun-sized personal raincloud thumping along over the past few days. There’s nothing in particular wrong per say, I just feel flat like a pancake. It is also important to note that I don’t feel like a pretty pancake, but more like one that didn’t make the first cut, let alone the final cut, for being frumpy, pale and misshaped.


This wee storm brewing in my brain only happens occasionally nowadays. Thanks to therapy and medication, I’m only graced with the boring and dull, relentless hold of depression rather irregularly now.

“Let’s not sleep at night, but during…

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