A real "we've got a nephew" of graphic design and illustration, mental illness held at bay by a very nice vegetable garden and cats.
Lapsed printmaker, you should ask me about it and I'll be very weird
A close friend of mine looked at the string of texts from my shitty goddamn roommate and clear as day told me they were an abuser.
My heart aches knowing that a place that was supposed to be safe spot to heal from past abuses, but the clarity is a gift.
I'm really sorry that even after everything in the past you still had to go through this. As much as it sucks, I'm glad you were able to get validation from another person about what happened.
