For awhile I thought I was good at being vulnerable. Almost too good. That shit seemed to come naturally! Then I started to realize I was just over-sharing all the time. I would divulge that I take a daily cocktail of anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds to anyone within earshot.

“I want you to close your eyes and hold up one hand. Using your fingers, I want to know how certain you feel that you’re going to heaven, on a scale of 1–5. 1 means you don’t think you’re getting in and 5 means you’re for sure going.”

I see the arguments coming from farther and farther away. I now choose to dip into the corner store for beer and a candy bar, instead of having to explain myself.

I have often felt misunderstood. I have a hard time articulating how I feel, because a lot of the time I’m still swimming in an emotion or twelve and trying to figure out how the hell I can get out of this pool and dry off.

I have often felt misunderstood. I have a hard time articulating how I feel, because a lot of the time I’m still swimming in an emotion or twelve and trying to figure out how the hell I can get out of this pool and dry off.

I have often felt misunderstood. I have a hard time articulating how I feel, because a lot of the time I’m still swimming in an emotion or twelve and trying to figure out how the hell I can get out of this pool and dry off.

I have often felt misunderstood. I have a hard time articulating how I feel, because a lot of the time I’m still swimming in an emotion or twelve and trying to figure out how the hell I can get out of this pool and dry off.

I have often felt misunderstood. I have a hard time articulating how I feel, because a lot of the time I’m still swimming in an emotion or twelve and trying to figure out how the hell I can get out of this pool and dry off.