It's not about the chicken biscuits

Shame spirals, rejections, and failing without being a failure

Hello.

I’m currently in bed, my great-grandmother's well-worn quilt draped over my lap even though it’s 90 + degrees outside. My own body is registering closer to 102, a feverish state I haven’t been able to shake for the last three days. When I look through the quilt from underneath, there are patches where the light shines through, bright orange square…