I don’t have a therapist. Here is a poem.

Everyone says
therapy is necessary
after trauma.

I agree
but it’s not as simple as it sounds.

Therapy is not
gossiping with your friends
or venting to your family.

It can feel that way eventually.
But therapy is work.
Therapy is a mirror.
Therapy is difficult
often.

I run from things that are difficult
and I avoid
goodbyes.

When life gets chaotic,
my mental health has always been
and always will be
the first thing I drop.

Not because I think this is the right thing to do
or want to do this
or recommend women ever do this
but because
of muscle memory.

I’ve always pushed down my own welfare.
“It’s fine,
just do.”
I say to myself.
“I’m fine,
I’ll do it.”
I say to everyone.

Old habits are difficult to quit

especially for me
who finds comfort* in certain routines.
*It’s not exactly comfort, but its
not exactly anxiety either.
It’s something in the middle.

New state
New therapist?
Too much
right now.

Nobody tells you
how difficult it is to even
start therapy.
“Go to therapy” they say, but
Therapy is not something you just
go to.

You have to find the right therapist
which involves a lot of time
and research
and introducing yourself in the most energy depleting ways.
It’s like dating all over again.

No.
Too much.
Not right now.
Later.

But everything is always too much.
I remember how many times
this came up
in previous sessions.

If I find a new therapist,
it will come up just as frequently.

First things first:
The unpacking,
No,
The lawsuit.
No,
The writing.
No,
The job search.

No, Cleaning.

Cleaning wins
because it’s easiest
and requires
very little thinking or emotional energy.

Or I could write a mediocre
poem
in under 20 minutes
and dare myself not to revise
or think deeply
about the correct wording
or punctuation
or grammar
and don’t obsess over the perfect title
to draw readers in.

I don’t care who reads this.
it’s for me.

I could transcribe
the exact thoughts
I’m having.
Will that count?
Is that writing?
No, its not.

While I work on this poem
I have another
tab open with
another
poem
that is actually good
and I’ve been working on it for a month
or two
and it’s just about ready.

Probably less than an hour of focus,
possibly less than 20 minutes…
and it will be good to click “publish”

But I’ve chosen not to do that right now.
I had a new idea
and it is much simpler.

Poetry is my new therapist
But somehow I feel worse after this session.
Maybe once I click “publish”…
surely then I will feel better.

No.
What about
I send a thank you note
to the last therapist
I practically ghosted.

Hello! My name is Alexandria.I’m an intersectional feminist and advocate for victims of sexual violence. I frequently post on Medium as well as my new WordPress blog (https://eternalmetamorphosis.art.blog) . My site is filled with raw and confessional journal entries about my recovery from trauma. Being a survivor of rape myself, my intended purpose for Eternal Metamorphosis is to help victims to feel empowered in the way that is unique to their journeys. I’m optimistic that my stories, and the stories of all survivors shared on my page, will broaden minds and encourage compassion, understanding and ACTION. Click the link below to check out my site and get involved ! You can follow me on Instagram and Twitter @alexandriaroswick 

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If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com