by on October 6, 2020
I avoided photos. If a camera came out, I stepped away just in case. For just over 30 years, I never liked to be in or see photos of me. Life was not happy or fulfilling, so holding onto memories where I was in life, held no appeal. I lost about 85 pounds and liked how I looked better, but still hated photos. (mild trigger warning, I mention the stab wounds in next paragraph) Then life came crashing down. I was a human puddle of misery and despair for about two years after my only brother ...
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