I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S WRONG with me.” It was about the tenth time in three months I’d sent some version of that text to my boyfriend.
The time prior to this, it was 8:00 P.M. on a Saturday. I’d just binged a whole season of Criminal Minds and placed my third order on Seamless that day. I knew I should cook, but even making SpaghettiOs (my go-to depressed “meal”) was impossible. This time, on an uneventful Monday morning, I was getting ready for work, and just putting on pants felt like too much. I was sitting there, sobbing, jeans pulled halfway up my thighs, and out of options. I knew I needed to go back on my meds, but I so desperately didn’t want to.
Bu hikaye Glamour dergisinin January 2019 sayısından alınmıştır.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber ? Giriş Yap
Bu hikaye Glamour dergisinin January 2019 sayısından alınmıştır.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber? Giriş Yap