because I think it directly affects my mental health. But weak secretiveness ran in our family and by the time I figured out what my parents were up to, I was already having big trouble myself.
Like they say in recovery, “none of us are saints. We strive for progress not perfection.” I have plenty of skeletons tucked far away in the closet. Safe to keep them there.
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I just remembered what someone told me. God knows we’re never good enough and loves us anyway. God makes the rules knowing we can’t possibly do it all. 
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