You're probably going to be fine.
Some part of you knows this ... and some part of you doesn't know it or may not want to admit it.
Whatever has happened in your life – no matter how horrible or dour or upsetting or truly awful it really is – you are likely going to survive it and at some point, now or way in the future, you'll be fine. Changed. Maybe better or (sadly) worse.
But you're probably going to be fine.
I don't like saying that (even though I believe it) because it seems a bit callous and like a minimizer.
And we hear it too often in our society because no one really wants to look at pain and admit that this life hurts a whole fucking lot.
That this life hurts so much it's amazing we each get back up and fling ourselves in these human velcro suits at the giant wall of life and expect that we will stick.
Sometimes we don't.
Sometimes we slide down the wall of life and thud to the ground and lie there a while.
And the last damn thing we need to hear is someone saying, "You'll be fine" – especially in that older sister or brother voice, the dismissive one, the one you still hear in your ears all these years later, even though it's been decades since you sat on that deserted hot summer road with a scratched bike next to you, bloody knee, salty tears, picking tar out of your latest wound.
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