piled on

It all started in the afternoon with just a flutter of nearly invisible pellets falling from the sky, flakes so small I couldn’t even see where they landed. But within minutes the roads were covered with a blanket of snow. I was on the interstate when all this happened, as the pace of the cars on it slowed down almost to a complete stop. Between paying attention to the roads and listening to the radio, the drive home also became my time to think about what I talked about in therapy earlier in the afternoon.

I remembered from about eight years ago, when I was in group therapy, when a participant pointed out that I was ‘innocent’ and that I didn’t really have any hard life experiences. It’s been a while since I heard those words from her, but I still wonder, am I just complaining? Have I just made up that I’ve had some life challenges—but in fact, my life’s been perfectly fine? My therapist told me that the lady in that group therapy was making those comments when she knew nothing about me, and that those comments were a reflection on her and not on me.

By the time I got back home three hours later (a trip that usually takes only 40 minutes), the snow had completely stuck to the ground, and some had hardened to ice where people had driven on top of it so many times. It’s now two days later and much of the snow had melted away, and people are back to their regular routine. I know those words were said to me by a random person so many years ago, but it’s like they are etched into my mind. I want so desperately to believe that I’m good enough for me, but the only thing that’s clear to me right now is that those few words from that lady has not been swept away and that as I’ve tried stomping on them, they’ve become something like black ice where I can barely make it on top of it.

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