Therapy Bits

I wake each day behind a fogged-up pane,
the world a little muted, edges soft.
Depression hums like distant traffic—
always there, even when I stop listening.

Anxiety taps my shoulder without warning,
a nervous metronome counting what could go wrong.
My heart rehearses disasters that never arrive,
yet leaves me breathless all the same.

Sometimes I drift from my own name,
watch my body move like borrowed clothing.
The mirror doesn’t quite reflect me back—
just a stranger practicing my expressions.

Still, there are moments—small, unannounced—
when light slips through the cracks.
A laugh surprises my lungs,
a song anchors me briefly to now.

I am learning this quiet endurance:
to live without certainty,
to carry fractured thoughts gently,
to stay, even when I feel unreal.

This life is not the one I imagined,
but it is mine, and I am here,
learning to reflect not only the pain,
but the fact that I survived another day.

reflect – The Daily Spur