Member-only story
Welcome To Therapy
Spoken Word On A Therapist Couch
Welcome to therapy.
I suspect you want me to tell you a little bit about me. Well, I feel like I’m trapped and my heart is about to explode while I watch a story unfold that doesn’t make sense. Or does it?
I write poems because I’m depressed, maybe even stressed? And sometimes I work out to run from the pain that feels like it sticks around, or maybe I’m still trying to process all of this shit out?
I like nature, and I don’t like crowds. Crazy to think I used to drink, but got sober somehow.
Sometimes I feel lost, wait broken. These words I create serve as tokens in this game of life when my emotions don’t play nice. Did I mention I’m divorced and my wife left me while I almost ended up in the morgue?
But hey, looking back, I don’t even know that George.
It has been two and a half years, but it feels like it’s gone on forever and most days, I don’t feel better. I feel like my mind plays tricks on me, and that’s why I’m here talking to you in therapy.
Which is kind of confusing, because I thought I knew what I was doing? So I guess, for now, I’ll just sit here and tell you how I feel because sometimes this doesn’t feel real.
