The Journal
Today is my 26th birthday. The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the swollen lymph nodes around my neck. Maybe it was from all the incessant laughter from last night’s fiasco when my dear friend surprised me with a birthday cake – made out of 1-year-old marshmallows and chocolate pudding. Or maybe it was from my uncontrollable sobs as I look back at the last three years of my life. Three years ago was when I hit rock bottom. But despite what people would imagine what “rock bottom” would look like, mine was a silent, invisible bomb.
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