I've been lead to believe my name is Bree (sometimes it's James), that I've got social anxiety and PTSD, and that I'm queer.
I'm working towards liking my body.
Occasionally, things get horrible. I try to fix them with copious amounts of bad movies, science fiction, ridiculously good musicians (who all seem to look wonderful in corsets), musicals, hobbits, superheroes, dusty vampires, consulting detectives, magic of all sorts and anything out of the ordinary.
I keep a personal blog for all things mental-health related, send me a message if you'd like the password.
Most of the time, it's just me and my cat.
Perhaps you'll like me.
I don't really.