Last week, I heard a song come up on Spotify that I used to listen to a lot — a lot - twenty-odd years ago. At first, the song felt comforting, reminding me of how I used to cry while listening to the song, and I felt pleased thinking about how far I’d come. Then I had to engage with that specific time — it felt like someone had dredged a horrible memory and put it up on a slideshow. There is no escaping this once you’ve decided to deal: I had to work through it, to let it impact my mood, to let me understand what it was, specifically, that had and was causing so much hurt. It might seem strange that a cheesy song from the 2000s could do this to an adult, but I think the process of recognition, as painful as it is, is worth feeling completely overcome.