Old angst art that I'd usually ignore, BUT... also the source of my fursona's current look. Explaining why she doesn't have a fluffy tail anymore.
Original post:

A while ago, I had a very disturbing dream.

I was being chased. By a monster; likely one of my own creation. It couldn't catch me, but it got my tail. Tore it right off. It wasn't violent or anything... in fact, it was kind of cartoony when it happened.

Boy was I upset. Even in the dream I cried and and cried and whined and sulked for a while.
But then... I got over it. Had to. A mutt is an arboreal animal and it threw off my balance at first, but I didn't have a choice but to get used to it. So I just learned to deal with my new stub. Started not to mind it after awhile. Made me feel cute. Could move around faster. Turns out it wasn't so bad after all.

If you haven't caught it yet, this is a metaphor. Took me a minute and a friend's interpretation to get it back then; but it applies now more than ever.

Things happen. They hurt. You cry and whine about it and maybe get all depressed (cough), but maybe it'll all work out for the better.

That's what I hope, anyway.

Keep your head up, kids!!! Even if you lose your tail...? Yeah, inspiration fail.