Dear Diary…
One day I’m going to be the luckiest girl in the whole wide world!!!
Lucky Girl, written as a plea to a hypothetical therapist at the beginning of this year. I knew I needed to make the jump back into regular therapy, but what I really wanted was for someone to wave their magic therapist wand and make my never-to-be-turned-off thoughts disappear.
I imagine my brain to be this never-ending motorway, except it’s 4000 motorways all stacked on top of each other, cars constantly moving in different directions, lanes bending in every which way. Now imagine every car is a thought. That’s what it’s like being the mind of Tonguetied. I often lean into a logical and overly pragmatic approach to dealing with those thoughts; a lot of them are asking to be felt, not categorised and ruminated upon until I’ve chewed them up and spit them back out more times than I could ever count.
I just want to be a really, very, ever so lucky, lucky girl. Maybe that’s delusional, or perhaps I can call it whimsy and turn it into finding joy in the small and mundane. Life continues to life in the way it always does, and it never ceases to remind us of its duality; some of the very best and the very worst happening all at once, all at the same time.
So this one goes out to my fellow, somewhat delusional, intellectualizers. Bodies and brains can feel cavernous - I hope you find your luckiest glow worm waiting patiently amongst the dark on those more difficult days.
Until next time…
TT x
