I remember the day I found out my sister was a cutter. She always did the cutting in private, she hid the wounds and the scars. Her pain was hers and cutting was an outlet to release the pain. I knew she didn't do it for attention. I knew she was suffering an agony I … Continue reading Survival
coping
I had a friend named Fred
When I was young, I didn't like cartoons. I didn't like all the fast moving, hard hitting, loud, often violent, and mostly poorly drawn animation that was children's television (and frankly, I still don't). When Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood debuted in early 1968, I was right there in front of our black & white console TV. … Continue reading I had a friend named Fred
try not to cry on my rainbow 