In therapy, we are EMDRing our way toward feeling like enough.
I show up, I trace the green dot back and forth with my eyes while I think of the worst memory of my entire life and cry about it.
And then we do it again. And again. And again.
The same place, the same words spoken, the same gold couch, the same familiar face becoming a stranger in seconds.
It’s like physical therapy for your brain: sometimes it has to hurt a little more before it starts feeling better.
Though I miss him, reminiscing can be sweet yet sickening.… Read the rest