Missed Stitch

Missed Stitch
Bri Dougherty

It’s pretty different for me right now, with my external life pretty stable and predictable, my internal life is chaotic and strange. Much of my life the opposite has been true, or at least I had to fake my internal life being stable because it was the only way to get through my external life. This is something I find pretty prevalent in my conversations with other people about mental health problems, we are a good bunch in a crisis as long as it’s not our own. I’ve heard from people with anxiety, depression, bipolar, you name it and we are able to focus hard in a time of crisis or urgency.

I’m not sure why that is, maybe the constant flow of adrenaline that we’ve got finally has a reasonable chance to use it and it allows for some hard concentration. I am not a scientist or a therapist so I have no real idea.

Anyway, all of those musings were kind of an attempt to distract from the topic on hand. I’ve finally found a therapist really good, Which is a truly excellent feeling. It also fucking sucks, because when you bury painful things for a very long time, it is even more painful to dig them up. Now I’m walking around all ripped open with the idea of healing in front of me, a little too far away for comfort, but at least it’s there.

I’m starting to see differences in myself, I’m starting to correct disordered thinking. I’m starting to recognize more things. I wish this kind of healing wasn’t as painful as it is. I like to believe that it is going work, a lot of people say it will, but I have my doubts.

Everyone feels too broken, too lost, too lonely, too helpless, too hopeless. I don’t feel that today. I may feel it tomorrow, but that’s okay, because I might not feel it the next day.

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