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when the weight won’t lift: living with depression
depression does not always storm in like a hurricane. often, it is a quiet thief, slipping into your life without warning. it takes your energy first, then your interest in the things you once loved. it drapes itself across your shoulders like an invisible cloak, heavy and suffocating, until you forget what it felt like
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my energy is my signature
my energy is my signature, a current that moves through the unseen spaces, weaving itself into air, into silence, into memory. it does not need permission to exist, nor does it beg to be noticed. it simply is—an invisible force that whispers, this is who i am, and i will not shrink for anyone. i
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roots of devotion ♡
today, my boyfriend tilled my garden so i could press pumpkin, onions, and squash seeds into the soil before frost finds its way across the rock garden. the rhythm of the tiller against the earth was steady, almost like a heartbeat, reminding me that love is not always thunderous or loud—it is often quiet, hidden
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chapter 36: blooming through it all
today, i stepped into chapter 36 of my life—thirty-six years of breathing, breaking, mending, and becoming. thirty-six years of being reshaped by storms and softened by sunlight. thirty-six years of carrying scars like maps, each one pointing toward the places where i have risen, fallen, and risen again. life has not been easy. it has
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where love becomes gratitude, and gratitude becomes home
today, i find myself reflecting on the countless blessings i hold close, and while there are many, one shines brighter than the rest—my partners. every day, they pour so much of themselves into our lives, showing me, in both grand gestures and the smallest acts, just how deeply love can be lived. this morning began
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love and communication: the art of listening, speaking, and being heard
love without communication is like a garden left untended—it may survive for a while, but it will not bloom. words, gestures, and silences all become seeds, and what we plant in each other will determine how we grow together. at its core, communication is more than speaking—it is the courage to let ourselves be known.
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where the river keeps me
there is a way the river breathes that feels like my own lungs learning how to exhale, like it has been waiting all this time for me to sit at its edge and simply listen. i do not just love the river, i am woven into it, tangled in its reeds and caught in its
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Whispered Words | thtgrlinbloom, 🌻 