When I started my Substack, I wore the “mask”, and I caught myself watering down my personality and internalizing my suffering in order to make other people feel comfortable.

It wasn’t sincere, nor was it healthy. And honestly, channeling my angst and trauma through fiction and poetry isn’t enough. I need to be able to write about my experiences. I need to connect with others who have insight into what I’m going through with mental health and addiction, or even just people who care enough to read about my journey.

I’ve spent so much of my life being admonished for taking up too much space. But I no longer accept that. If I can’t be a beautifully defective individual, then what’s the point of any of this?