My apartment was quiet this morning, until I stumbled to the kitchen for coffee. The attorneys in my brain arrived out of nowhere as I stirred in the cream.
During meditation, they pointed out past failures as evidence that I deserved a life sentence of brokenness for my defects of character.
The prosecution argued that mental illness was no excuse for the damage I’d done. Furthermore medication, meditation, support from others and therapy wouldn’t work.Read more on themighty.com