Choosing to Be Kinder

I was twelve years old the first time I attempted suicide, though this isn’t really about the suicide attempt. I’m writing this because what happened after is incredibly significant. Nonetheless, I imagine you’re wondering what would drive a 12-year-old to such a thing, so I will share the brief version….

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Recommitment to Kwitcherbitchin’

I have a very old, ingrained habit of complaining. I grew up in a family of complainers. My mother was a martyr’s martyr. I heard “Kwitcherbitchin’!” a lot growing up. Complaining is a lot like smoking cigarettes; it’s great when you’re doing it, and a disgusting habit once you’ve quit….

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