Therapy

Believe me when I tell you that if a therapy exists, I am pretty sure that I’ve been through it at least on a trial-basis.

Physical therapy? I’ve been there, and humbly, I thank all of my physical therapists from a time ago. I would not be who I am without the rigorous exercise that I was put through in PT.

Occupational therapy? Yes, even that I have been through. Occupational therapy, along with my mother’s relentless pushing, is the main reason that I am able to type on this computer with both hands. Thank God for both my OT, and my mother.

Psychological therapy, also, is something that I have been through. Re-training your brain to be ‘normal’ in society is probably the hardest thing that I have ever done. Can you imagine waking up after a three-month-nap, barely being able to speak, barely being able to move, being able to hold your fork or spoon by only the assistance of your mother? Can you imagine waking up to learn that ‘the summer of your life’ is over and was spent in a hospital bed instead of at the beach with your friends and your sister? Can you imagine waking up and not understanding why you are so horribly thin that you look malnourished? Can you imagine waking up with tubes coming out of your ribcage? Can you imagine everyone that you come across look at you’re a ghost, or an alien?

Well, that is how I spent my senior year of High-School.

Music therapy. Oh, the deep seated love I have of music. Everything from Classic Rock to Jazz to Classical music. They all soothe my soul, and connect me to the deep, deep, deep drift of this world. Music is where I go when I am stressed. When I am angry. When I am sad. When I am joyous beyond compare.

Music is how I connect with my Savior. Music is what makes me feel peace.

The therapy that I began this blog post with is very different from all of those therapies though.

The therapy to which I believe I owe my life is the therapy that true love provides. Mostly, I have received this therapy from my family. My family means more to me than I could ever say. After the ‘bad thing’ happened, family was all that I really had. I mean, sure, there are a few dear friends that stuck by my side. But most of them bailed on me. I cannot imagine how hard it would be to watch a friend go through what I did, on top of my own problems. So, I have decided to rise above what some people think I might do, and just keep turning the other cheek. Sure, it started to smart the first time I lost a friend, the second time, the third. But I have come to a point in my life where I love with everything that I have, but I expect nothing in return. It hurts much less. I do not think of myself as heartless.

After all, I shed more love every day than there are clouds in the sky during a thunderstorm. I just realize that some people are incapable (or unwilling) to lay their heart out in the open.

I want people to have the opportunity to feel loved, cherished sand valued more than any other soul on the Earth. I want everyone to get the chance to feel the healing , therapeutic powers of love.

I want them to lay helpless on a hospital bed, near death, and to feel the warm body of their dearest, most cherished cousin by their side, after a brutal argument with nasty words not worthy of repetition.

That is what love feels like.

That is the therapy that only love can provide to heal a broken body.