A raw, open, and kind post about the reality of why making promises doesn’t equate to happiness and it’s okay to say “no” or go with the flow.
Excuse me and my sudden blog lapse. I can’t make promises and in fact, I won’t. Ever. (except when I tell my dogs I’ll be back) This sounds melodramatic but hey we are all entitled to a bit of exaggeratory language if only to make life more exciting.
But let’s get real, I used to over promise and I wouldn’t under produce I’d just break every bone in my body to make sure I kept it. As one can imagine this wore me down and the spiral to the bottom began. Or maybe I’ve always been spiraling. That’s for another time.
I want to make a point to tie in my mental illness with each post so forgive me for the redundancy, but also you can just stop reading. It’s a free country or so we like to boast.
I have decided that making plans is not my forte, this…
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