Distraction Is My Drug of Choice
It’s not as harmless as it sounds.
My mom gifted me a silent retreat for my 16th birthday. Unfortunately, it was at a bleak nunnery, not a luxurious spa. The rainy, windswept hills outside matched the stark walls and sparsely furnished rooms inside. Grey desolation all around, except for the occasional horror of tortured, bloody Jesus on a cross around every corner.