anxiety

I remember feeling emotional distress when my parents got rid of one of their old cars—I felt they were killing it.

Spring is the realization that if you can't believe in the possibility of change, then what have you got left?

The bottom line is, I never made it to Harvard. I no longer own that stupid expensive car. What goes up must come down.

I could tell my therapist that tomorrow I will eat toast for breakfast instead of a bagel, and technically I will have done what she's asked.

I may never own a house or a new car. I feel like I’ve won a small war by sincerely being able to say, “I’m okay with that.”

Please buy a dictionary and look up “censorship.” The definition is not “brief note concerning the subject matter of the following text.”

If you're trying to avoid a balanced life filled with real connections with others, I'm here to let you know—you too can realize this fantasy!

What do you do when you have no choice on how you get to work?