You know how every household has that one ancient piece of furniture? Too heavy, too ugly, and practically a relic from some forgotten era, but somehow, nobody has the heart (or the sheer muscle power) to get rid of it? Well, meet my trauma: the overstaying houseguest of my psyche.
It arrived uninvited, much like that relative who pops in for “just a minute” but somehow ends up staying for dinner, dessert, and a three-hour critique of your life choices. There it was—this cumbersome, awkward baggage I never asked for and never had the receipt to return.
I tried everything to evict it. Meditation? Check. Visualization? Absolutely. I even imagined myself on a peaceful beach, only to find my trauma right there beside me, building a sandcastle labeled Trauma Towers with a tiny flag waving in the breeze. Fantastic.
But here’s the thing—I eventually realized that trauma wasn’t going anywhere. So, we struck a sort of truce. Over time, it’s evolved into this ridiculous sitcom sidekick, popping up at the most inconvenient moments, making my ‘normal’ life feel more like a comedy sketch. Plot twist? I’m both the main character and the reluctant roommate.
I won’t lie—I’ve often fantasized about a trauma-free existence, one where my psyche feels as light as my wallet after a shopping spree. But somewhere along the way, I stumbled upon an unexpected truth: Trauma, in all its frustrating persistence, has shaped me. It's like that one song you claim to hate but somehow know all the lyrics to.
And here’s where things get interesting—I’ve learned to laugh at the absurdity. I’ve realized that while trauma might have set up camp in my headspace, it doesn’t own the lease. I can acknowledge it, roll my eyes at its antics, and then continue living my life on my own terms.
Because, as much as I wanted it gone, trauma has also left me with unexpected gifts—resilience, strength, and a deeply refined sense of humor. And if, one day, it finally decides to pack its bags and leave? I’ll stand at the door, wave a fond yet sarcastic goodbye, and say, “Thanks for the memories. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
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