(and a Personal Invitation)
This reminds me of the time when I finally gathered the courage to tell my parents, "I'm not okay. I don't feel safe."
And almost every single time, I got the same kind of response—I call it the fact dumping.
I battle anxiety and depression everyday, of course I think irrationally more often than most.
But when they try to solve my emotional overwhelm with logic and numbers—or worse, comparing my life with others'—you just shut down, you know?
So, the only thing I wanna stress is this:
When a man comes to you, miserable, broken and hopeless, just hold him. Tight. Tight enough to make him feel safe again.
Thanks Ethan for the letter.
This reminds me of the time when I finally gathered the courage to tell my parents, "I'm not okay. I don't feel safe."
And almost every single time, I got the same kind of response—I call it the fact dumping.
I battle anxiety and depression everyday, of course I think irrationally more often than most.
But when they try to solve my emotional overwhelm with logic and numbers—or worse, comparing my life with others'—you just shut down, you know?
So, the only thing I wanna stress is this:
When a man comes to you, miserable, broken and hopeless, just hold him. Tight. Tight enough to make him feel safe again.
Thanks Ethan for the letter.