Over Means Over

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Don’t worry, folks. I’ll never go back. I learned in therapy (Which consisted of me and a book and a writing outlet–journaling is proven to be more effective than formal therapy. Pro tip.) to hold in your mind whatever it is you’re thinking or feeling. Just hold it. Allow it to be, because it is, and not dealing with it leaves it not dealt with. Examine it, poke around a little bit and figure out its parts. If it hurts, let it hurt, a little pain rarely killed anyone.

And then position it against the backdrop of reality. How significant is it, really? Does it hold up as a truth? If it does not, how can you account for its existence? Is it a maladaptive reaction to an old trauma? Is it a misconception? Is it abusive or self destructive, what IS it, if it isn’t true?

Then you find that box in your little collection of boxes, we all have them, and you put it the fuck away. And if you find another one like it later, you do the same thing, and again, and again, until your mind is free from all the untrue, or useless, bullshit.

See, I may not be very good at living among successful people. Believe it or not, you can blame my parents, not some alleged immaturity on my end. But in matters of the mind, I’m a seasoned traveler. Go ahead and hit a crisis, any crisis, and you’ll see what I mean. I’m much wiser than you think.



Hey. It's Renee. Hope you're having a nice day. 

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