From the author: A metaphorical sketch about a traumatic experience. Insulting the feelings of believers was not intended. Psychologists argue about what trauma therapy should be - healing or adaptive. Carry out an almost magical ritual that will help to forget about the painful event once and for all - or look for new ways to live with the client, despite for injury. To comprehend what happened, to call a crime a crime, violence - violence, pain - pain. Adapt, find meaning. Move on in small steps. I don’t know about you, but I always start to doubt when I read about healing “once and for all.” Therefore, in this sketch the second way is metaphorically understood - without claims to any complete presentation of the topic. This is just one of the possible pictures. She is neither sad nor happy. More like real. I will be glad if you respond with anything.***Each of us has our own little cozy Hell. Curtains chosen with love hang on the window. The orange floor lamp shines softly. Your favorite hairless cat is curled up in a chair. The fire occasionally bites the heels, but that’s okay – it’s even piquant. We have been here more than once or twice. This corner has long been inhabited by us - like grandma’s apartment in which you hang out all summer. And it’s annoying, and it’s blowing on the peroxide-filled abrasion, and still there’s no escape. This Hell cannot be filled with water from a fire hydrant. The flame is not afraid of water and does not go out. Unless he hisses angrily: go to bed, stop tossing and turning. And repairs won't help. We tore off grandma's wallpaper a long time ago, rebuilt the old parquet flooring, and threw out the Soviet furniture. Hellfire cheerfully breaks through expensive laminate. The devils have settled down in a stylish kitchen and are mentally mulling over the latest hellish news. All that remains is to just be here. Sit with your feet in a chair. Pet the cat. Flipping through Bosch's album. Pour “Rescuer” over burned heels. Wait it out. Endure it. Cry. "Knock Knock!" - they knock on the door. "Who's there?" – I ask sadly. “It’s me, your therapist!” With cold lemonade!" "Come in. You don’t have to take off your shoes.” What else to read on the topic: How to stop feeling pain How to deal with depression