…to feed me sometimes. I run off on missions, or run around working, or taking care of others, and I don’t feed me. I don’t stop and breathe and do what I want to do. Sometimes we need to do that. We need to feed ourselves. I’m guilty of running around and not addressing all the things that are going on inside me. I’m guilty of putting on a brave face and not feeling the things I am feeling because they inconvenience others.
And we need to stop doing that. It wears us out. It wears me out, and then I’m no good to anyone. Least of all myself.
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