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Blue Evergarden
a book bubble about
Diaries of a Borderline
Literature & Fiction
Author Insight
when the ribs remember winter
When I wrote this scene, I was remembering myself at fourteen . the winter after my mother died, when grief and harm were the same shadow wearing two different faces. I didn’t have the language for survival then. I didn’t know how to stop calling the blade “mother,” or how to stop offering my inner child to the parts of me that wanted silence more than breath. In those moments, “the devil” wasn’t a monster outside of me. It was the part of my trauma that believed self-destruction was easier than learning how to stay. And “ripping hope from my ribs” wasn’t metaphor — it was the ache of skipping the things I knew would bring back light, because light felt too expensive to hold. If you’re carrying this kind of moment right now — the moment where pain tries to prove a tear can pass for illumination — I want you to know this: You are not the sin. You are not the shame. You are not the scapegoat for a world that never learned how to love tenderly. Even if all you can do is cry until morning comes… you’re giving yourself one more chance to choose a hue of hope that wasn’t visible in the dark. You stayed. That’s a beginning.
Book Excerpt
Diaries of a Borderline
She bathes in the love she once denied herself.
How good it feels to lift her eyes to infinity.
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