Triage day in process.

My self-worth is stuck in prepubescent hell, all awkward angles and fragile bony bits.

So, when it gets tossed to the curb by harsh words and harsher looks, nasty wounds to my ego are guaranteed.

Blood.

Guts.

Vile inner thoughts.

Yep, the whole trifecta of me-stupidity.

Today, therefore, I’m trying very hard not to despise myself too much.

A triage day.

How stupid am I?

Until tomorrow…

Chloe