"It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace."
It just occurred to me that my moma is in Texas during NEDAwareness week. And it fucking breaks my heart. I wish I could be with you, moma. I wish you didn't have to be in that awful place. But more so, I wish I could be with you.
I think I'm going to nix the article I was supposed to write for the Communique this week and let K. Copes write it instead. I'm going to write an ED piece. A NEDAwareness Week piece. It would've been better if I'd written it last week so it'd come out in this week's paper, but I don't give a fuck.
I messed up and didn't write the ED Awareness/Prevention event article because I missed the damn event, and I will not let this slide.
Facebook is not sufficient for spreading awareness. Not for me - not FROM me.
I'm pretty sure that at this point, everyone (except Katie H. and Becca D.) just glosses over my constant sharing and resharing of ED Awareness or body dysmorphic awareness/prevention articles and links on facebook anyway. I've become THAT girl whose "news" links you just ignore with a slight eye roll.
Well, fuck facebook. I should be doing more.
I, of all people, should be doing more.
I, of all students on this campus, should be shouting from the fucking rooftops (a surprisingly easy task, if I wanted to literally do it).
I have to.
I feel like I've been so lazy, so dormant, so uninvolved in advocacy and fighting in the honor of my sister and my friends and my family and myself.. I actually feel really guilty about this.
Fuck.
I wish I could be with you this week, moma.
I have an article to write.
Love you Marissa Pearl.
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