Member-only story
Hello, My Name is Meghan Today
We’re all a little mad here. Some more than others
Ah, where do I begin? I suppose the beginning would make sense.
I am a moth r of a one-year-old girl. I am an artist, a lover of words — I enjoy collecting charming ideas and placing them in my pocket, like sea glass. Once home, I rearrange them intricately to create a magical story.
I am also a chronic bath dweller.
The reason I am me
I came from a home most would only imagine in their nightmares or a serial killer documentary.
My very first article on Medium explains that vividly.
Writing, while I was never really good with the mechanics, it has always been an outlet for me to express my bottled anger, depression, and everything in between.
I came from rags, acquired riches, lost riches, now I’m polishing my few riches I have left, with rags.
I’ve had zero home training, little to no love, and dropped out of high school to sell drugs — before you ask, yes, that lifestyle has been dead in the water for years. However, having to feed, clothe, and fend for myself since kindergarten has made me who I am today.
