Every Last Word

by Tamara Ireland Stone

“How many thoughts does the brain automatically deliver in a single day?” Mom moves on to facts to help me center myself. “Seventy thousand,” I whisper as tears splash onto my jeans. “That’s right. Do you act on seventy thousand thoughts a day?” I shake my head. “Of course you don’t. This thought was one in seventy thousand. It’s not special.”

Remininding myself of this everytime

“I can’t turn my thoughts off, so I barely sleep. Without meds, I don’t get much more than three or four hours a night.

Me asf

“You’re telling me to not think. All I do is think. All the time. I think so much, I’m on medication and I see a shrink every Wednesday. I can’t not think, Caroline.”

Girl me too

thinking about Sue’s advice to make new friends, and realizing that after all those years of saying I couldn’t do it, I just tried to. And failed.

“The trick is to recognize your mistakes, take what you need from them, and move on.” “I can’t move on.” “You can’t beat yourself up, either.”

“Did you learn something?” I hide my face behind my hand, nodding fast. “Then this particular mistake has done its job. Forgive yourself and move on, Sam.”