I’ve heard from several people that healing and recovery have not looked or felt the way they had imagined. I know this was true for me too. This is a poem I wrote about the dissonance:
seems so vague and transient and distracted,
as if you could catch it chewing its nails
or sitting exhausted on the winner’s podium,
weary legs dangling before the number one.
Where is the magical trip across a definitive line,
the diploma, signed and dated and official,
the raw victory cry from the top of a mountain?
I had always dreamed that rescue would be shiny,
but a dull dime is still worth ten cents.
For (lots!) more about OCD and ERP, go to jackieleasommers.com/OCD.
Image credit: Kevin Dooley
Reblogged this on Confessions of a published author and commented:
Lovely post Jackie
Thank you again, friend. You’re so encouraging!
Cool poem!! And yes, it really is ironic how so many things don’t look the way we expect them to. But that doesn’t make them any less wonderful!
You’re so right!