while i meandered onto doll’s head trail, a path strewn with discarded belongings, broken toys, and greyed-over paint, one brick caught me in a question: keep going for me?
a week later, my silly little kitten daughter burrowed into a plastic bag emptied of paper towels. her face mangled in the plastic, i fussed at her (as i do) so that she would never suffocate on my watch, so that she would live forever.
and in between these two memories, my therapist prompted me: which emotions would you like to decrease in severity and frequency? i named several, but each one has a home in my fear.
