i’ve done my best to pin my emotions down to words. i learn. i understand more than i did before. i give myself a sense of clarity and the ability to breathe again. i write to make sense of each moment i am put inside and to understand the scenes into which i tread. i keep myself honest about each emotion i can only describe but never define. i am writing to paint a picture or sketch a scene. i’ve almost mapped my way out.
one day, maybe i will.
(phoenix loves is rebecca. rebecca is 27 years old, lives in san francisco with her husband and many succulents, bread cultures, and kombucha SCOBYs. rebecca is a developmental biologist by day and a foodie by night. rebecca has struggled with depression and self harm and anxiety. she paints a picture of herself and her life here with words. it’s mostly to keep her sane, but she appreciates if you read all the same.)