A Blog Of Many Things That Interest Me

I bring her inside, dry her off, make some tea. She’s smaller looking when wrapped up in a blanket. She usually sits in silence for a while before weeping happens. Each expression of self-hatred, rejection, isolation, heartbreak manifests differently. Sometimes Shame cries for hours, sometimes she shouts.

It’s the same simple reminder every time: No one else’s shame is yours. It doesn’t belong to you.

When she understands, she nods and drinks the tea while her face is still wet from rain and tears.

Shame has only really begun to quiet recently. But even when she’s not banging on the door, I can still hear her crying. Unable to say what she needs, not even knowing what she needs, she just cries.

Purging Shame often means being witness to her spirals and helping her see things differently.

She’s so little. Too little to understand this human life. But not too little to feel this pain. Be careful not to shame Shame. She didn’t ask to be born; she’s the result of you surviving whatever/whoever drilled a sense of shame (for no wrongdoings) into you.

"That's illegal!"

"He is violating the constitution!"

Then fucking stop him! Arrest him, throw Musk out, bar them from entering when they try to access shit.