After ten minutes, she choked out, "I think I'm broken."
Driving home, the rain had softened to a drizzle. She didn't turn on the radio. She thought about leaves. She thought about her father's hands—calloused from working on his old truck. And for the first time, the grief didn't feel like drowning. thriveworks counseling & psychiatry woodstock
Thriveworks in Woodstock wasn't a magic cure. It was just a building with blue signs and warm lights. But for Nora, it became the place where she stopped running. And in the quiet of a small counseling room, surrounded by the red clay hills of Georgia, she finally let herself begin to heal. After ten minutes, she choked out, "I think I'm broken
He leaned forward. "You're not broken, Nora. You're just bent. And we can straighten things out here. But it takes showing up." It was just a building with blue signs and warm lights
Today was different. Today, the thing she was running from—a tidal wave of grief over her father’s sudden passing—had finally caught up. She couldn’t outdrive it.