Already, in order to wake up and have a chance at a productive, I need to think of every inch of my body. If I don’t do this my brain will run haywire and might suddenly decide I don’t have enough air to breathe. But hey, I could just smile, right.

If I am completely honest, I kind of thought that once I had gathered the courage to talk about my feelings with a stranger, that would be all I needed. That was the work. Sitting across the room from a therapist and reliving my nightmares was not easy. How could it that not be enough?