frivolous tender_square she gave up booze and gave up weed, gave up the things she thought helped her in the moments of stress and anxiety. she tried to be good. but she had this habit of telling herself she deserved things for working hard, deserved things for enduring what life lobbed, even though she knew she had an easier time than most, and a harder time for other reasons. the illusion of calmness was just that; the worry would subside until a chaotic incident caused it to spike. and then she’d be back, ratcheted up, to a degree of fear about the ones she loved she thought was far behind her. in these states, her good habits lapsed: no more daily journaling. no more meditation. no more morning yoga. no more walks. she drank too much diet coke and not enough water. she ate donuts and cookies, fast food fries and bakery-fresh cannoli’s. she window-shopped online constantly and browsed racks of other people’s trash, spending energy that was not hers to burn. “you can’t be perfect,” her mother said when she admitted to her faults. and instinctively she knew this; every concession meant to alleviate her pain only served to deepen it, turned the days into a thickening cell whose walls were closing in on her. 221017 what's it to you? who go blather from