Survival of the Fittest

I think about Darwin sometimes. Evolution and survival of the fittest. Put me in a time machine to the caveman era and I would rot in my cave alone or be kicked out of the clan. Depression, anxiety, bipolar, would feed me to the figurative and literal wolves.
Without the aid of the 21st century “life support”: meds, therapy, sober livings, intensive outpatients, and more meds: people like me…we would rot in our caves of closed blinds, isolation, Netflix, razor blades, pills, alcohol, and food that gets eaten or not.


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⏣Nobody makes me laugh more than myself ⏣I practice raising my left eyebrow in the mirror way too much. Don’t get me started on winking ⏣I laugh a lot during sex and I’ve had to analyze it with my therapist ⏣I have a strategy to catch men called the Pussy Trick. It works better than push up bras and short skirts

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