I'm not good at keeping in touch.
I eat too much, too quickly.
I stay up too late and generally don't get enough sleep.
I don't often get mad, but when I do, my temper is pretty fiery.
I try every day to limit my hypocrisies and personal inconsistencies; I fall short, but I at least try not to hurt anyone else along the way. I occasionally fall short with that, too.
I have trouble sticking up for myself.
I articulate myself much better when I write than when I speak.
I talk slowly and deeply and have always been self-conscious about my voice.
I don't trust easily.
While I've started to entertain the possibility that I'm pretty, I have always struggled with beauty and I am trying to redefine it for myself.
I care too deeply, sometimes to the point of neglecting myself and my own boundaries.
I don't want to disappoint anyone, let anyone down.
I'm scared of finding myself in severe poverty again.
I'm not afraid of death; I'm only afraid of not loving enough. That's not a typo.
I will live with my chronic health problems for the rest of my life; I get that. I just want more consistency so that I can have more flexibility. That will probably never happen, and I need to accept that.
I need to accept a lot of things, and stop feeling so guilty all the time.