You think you're done with therapy but then get anxiety and start dreading doing a friend a favour because for some reason you were fully expecting some sort of backlash for trying to do the right thing. Scolded for not asking permission, for doing it wrong, for inconveniencing other people, just bracing yourself for The Consequences, with no idea what the fuck the consequences would even be, and then realise like wow. What the fuck was wrong with the people who raised me like this.
Literally just walked past a root that grew all fucked up to get past a tree stump that's now eroded and not there anymore. The root's way is no longer blocked but the shape of the obstacle is still there, as an absent silhouette.
If I wrote this shit into a book, an editor would beat my ass for such an over-the-top on the nose metaphor.
