Therapy Challenge...
I am a happy person when…
When I see my friends succeeding and healing from their traumas
I feel afraid when…
I feel like I’m a failure, or that I’m going to fail
What makes me most angry is…
When people are fake with me, lie to my face, and then stab me in the back.
I feel sad when…
When I see someone who’s accepted themselves for who they are, and then their family, their immediate support system knocks their feet out from under them.
I hate it when…
I’m overly emotional and fighting with myself.
I feel encouraged when…
When I see other women empowering women!
I feel loved by…
My besties.
I feel anxious when…
Life stresses me out! School, Internship, Work, Papers, Dishes...Need I go on?
What’s hardest for me to control is…
The fear of the unknown future. The troubles faced in our economy and social circles.
When I feel a lot of rage, it makes me want to…
Participate in one of those rage rooms and destroy things.
When I’m afraid, I feel…
Anxiety not fear.
I feel guilty about…
Being so picky as I look through bios on the dating app.
One of the things that out rages me the most is…
The hatred in the world.
I admire myself for…
Picking up the pieces and gluing myself back together. I will overcome my trauma.
I feel love for…
My two cats.
I fear…
Right now, nothing.
When I’m stressed…
I’ve found that I have a really strong poker face.
About the Creator
Alisha Wilkins ✒️🦋🖋️
I've been writing my whole life. Writing about realms to escape in, forbidden characters to fall in love with, and using writing as my muse and refuge. Recently, I've delved into the mind...mine and others. Happy Reading. Wishing you well.
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More stories from Alisha Wilkins ✒️🦋🖋️ and writers in Poets and other communities.
Trouble at the Tea Leafing Café
The rain had started right around the time that Annie was buttering her second thick slice of homemade toast for breakfast, and hadn’t paused since. Not that anyone could tell. The windows of the café were fogged over, and with every seat filled with happy customers munching on fresh baked pastries or steaming bowls of the delicious soup of the day, it was hardly surprising. Annie looked around the room, finally taking a moment to breathe after the lunch time rush. Her old life already felt like a bad memory, a part of her history, always, but just that. History.
By Hannah Moore3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Some excellent observations , big hugs