that there are so many worries pressing on my mind that I can't even begin to let one of them out. I'm afraid that if I do, the rest will pour out and I'll get swamped. I feel as though if I can only keep the lid on them, it'll buy me time to find a way to manage them singly. So sadly, in the meantime, you get silly stories about cute dancer boys.
God, I wish I could still afford therapy. I feel as though I'm living on credit. And if you know anything about my credit card, you know that's not good.
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