Each episode is a letter to the audience. Fragments of thought and heartbeat written in the margins of an ordinary yet impossible life. I am Bailey: a runner training for a 100 mile race, pursuing a PHD in psychology, and living with both BPD and Ehlers-Danlos. Here I leave digital journal entries, philosophical rants, and confessions told into the microphone like unsent letters. Some are to you, some are to myself, some to the ache of existence itself. If you have ever wanted to collapse and keep going all at once, these letters are addressed to you.
Love,
- B.S.
All content for Letters From Bailey is the property of Bailey Schildbach and is served directly from their servers
with no modification, redirects, or rehosting. The podcast is not affiliated with or endorsed by Podjoint in any way.
Each episode is a letter to the audience. Fragments of thought and heartbeat written in the margins of an ordinary yet impossible life. I am Bailey: a runner training for a 100 mile race, pursuing a PHD in psychology, and living with both BPD and Ehlers-Danlos. Here I leave digital journal entries, philosophical rants, and confessions told into the microphone like unsent letters. Some are to you, some are to myself, some to the ache of existence itself. If you have ever wanted to collapse and keep going all at once, these letters are addressed to you.
Love,
- B.S.
Why Struggle Is a Gift (and How to See It Differently)
Letters From Bailey
8 minutes 37 seconds
2 months ago
Why Struggle Is a Gift (and How to See It Differently)
What a gift it is to be tired from chasing a goal that I set for myself
Letters From Bailey
Each episode is a letter to the audience. Fragments of thought and heartbeat written in the margins of an ordinary yet impossible life. I am Bailey: a runner training for a 100 mile race, pursuing a PHD in psychology, and living with both BPD and Ehlers-Danlos. Here I leave digital journal entries, philosophical rants, and confessions told into the microphone like unsent letters. Some are to you, some are to myself, some to the ache of existence itself. If you have ever wanted to collapse and keep going all at once, these letters are addressed to you.
Love,
- B.S.
