This young woman said so much that is so true, so I’m reblogging. I lived in a sorority house on a Big 8 campus in the early 1980s, and I spent a lot of time under the covers, missing class, failing. I wound up leaving school, but even so, things got better.
I love meaningful tattoos; I’ll join the Semicolon Project the first chance I get.
Today I went to a tattoo artist, and for $60 I let a man with a giant Jesus-tattoo on his head ink a semi-colon onto my wrist where it will stay until the day I die. By now, enough people have started asking questions that it made sense for me to start talking, and talking about things that aren’t particularly easy. We’ll start here: a semi-colon is a place in a sentence where the author has the decision to stop with a period, but chooses not to. A semi-colon is a reminder to pause and then keep going. In April I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. By the beginning of May I was popping anti-depressents every morning with a breakfast I could barely stomach. In June, I had to leave a job I’d wanted since I first set foot on this campus as an incoming freshmen because of my mental…
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A blog full of humorous and poignant observations.
the life, times and ramblings of jaythenerdkid. probably not safe for children.
The mountains are calling...
We've all got a story to tell.
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life's wHeirdness and wonder