Trauma teaches you fear, then fear takes over your education completely.
You work your ass off to overcome that, because it can be overcome. You wonder why it only ever seems to work briefly, even after decades. The professionals take a look and say, oh dear, your brain is quite broken, but all is not lost.
You gaze bleakly at your life and your ligaments – all the gall and gristle that got you to that point. You’re a survivor, and if you’re in the mood, please go ahead and celebrate that fact. You’ve earned better treatment than you ever give yourself.
Or sit, head in hands, trying to ignore the wreckage around you. You persevere with courage only you can see, and your head says hamsterwheel, sisyphus, lather rinse repeat.
Compassionate cheerleaders say c’mon you can do it, life is tough for all of us; think positive, be mindful, try this, try that. Thank goodness they do, because without love you are truly lost.
You list your blessings mentally, because counting them would be competitive. You live the clichés, you live to fight another day. Now your life is inspirational quotes and motivational posters. It really isn’t the life you planned, back in the proverbial day, before things fell, jumped, were pushed apart.
You think and think and think and alternate that with hopes and dreams. The hopes and dreams fade before the thinking does.
You can take refuge in the buddha, the dharma, the sanga; you can breathe the wild air of chaos theory. It’s all the same.