bloom;

many years ago, i made this blog as a diary space, meant to journal my life as a seventeen year old navigating the experience of emerging from her very first depression. from then on, this became a scrapbook of sorts. a collection of photos, shower thoughts, vents and recounts of several traumatic events that happened in quick succession over a very short period of time. these traumatic moments shaped my life from the age of seventeen to, well, now, but particularly seventeen to twenty. that is when this blog was most active, and i am somewhat blessed to still have access to all of those posts. to relive my most harrowing moments in the rawest form of writing i could have mustered - tear streaked and clutching my phone to manically record my thoughts in real time - has been fairly vital in trying to work through that trauma now, at thirty-one. i suppose it’s better late than never. avoidance never helped anyone (least of all me over the last ten years, burrowing my head in the dirt to avoid doing any inner work for fear of what i might find down there in that void, gaping back at me).