The Perfect Analogy — That’s Where I’m At

thI love my therapist.  I would marry her if everything was, well, different!  She’s a good listener (obviously), kind, funny, empathetic, able to dole out an “atta boy” or a kick in the pants where warranted.

Wednesday we teased out the perfect analogy for this divorce scourge.  It’s a car accident.  I was blindsided and thrown from my car.  I was unconscious for several months.  I woke up in the hospital and wondered who did this to me. What happened?! How much time had gone by?  Are the bruises, broken ribs, and extreme weight loss who I am now?  The memories flooded back, and a second wave of pain gripped me so completely, they must have put in an induced coma.  I woke up calmer next time.  Now how much time has passed?  What’s for breakfast?  Who’s taking care of my cat?  What’s going on outside my window?

Do I even care?

I think I do.

That’s where I’m at.

Moving on.

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