Philosophy saved my life.

When I was growing up with two abusive parents, I was often overwhelmed by how little control I had over my own life.

Whether today was a good day or not often depended on whatever moods my parents found themselves in.

By the time high school rolled around, and I had begun to layer these problems with the more ordinary teenage woes of a devastating break-up, I was feeling profoundly lost.

In 11th grade I was drowning in AP courses, anxiety about applying to college, and suffering at the hands of my toxic ex’s leadership in my favorite extracurricular activity - marching band.

I discovered an old yellow book amongst the many shelves in our home - nearly every inch of available wall in the common spaces were filled with cinder block bookshelves.

It was called “The Essential Works of Stoicism”

I found myself drawn to Marcus Auerilus’ To Himself otherwise known as The Meditations.

I remember feeling particularly hopeless one gloomy fall day...