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Time, Travel: Personal Apocalypses and What Comes After - Mutha Magazine
Two-thousand twelve was an apocalyptic year for me, as if the Mayans had been thinking of a thirty-something white lady in Los Angeles when they drew their calendar. I’d just started to heal from a miscarriage and subsequent mental implosion when my partner, C.C., asked for a separation so she could reflect on her own [&hellip