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Depression, Zen, and BDSM - Dark Little Critter
“I’m dying, Critter,” I whisper to my imaginary raccoon. She has appeared, as always, to talk me through a flare of chronic depression. “No, you’re not,” she retorts. “God damn it. I don’t mean physically,” I grumble. I close my eyes and feel my cheeks burst into flame. Jesus Christ, Zottmann. Do not cry. That … Continue reading Depression, Zen, and BDSM →