"The new Taylor Swift album, The Tortured Poets Department, really hit me hard," I told my therapist exactly one year ago. I was speaking about the end of a seemingly life-altering situationship. "She felt like she'd never find love again," I explained. The whole thing felt so familiar.
Once again, I had met someone new and was itching to do something rash (Double text! Call her! Order a gift! Send a nude!). Spiraling, I worried this person would ghost me because I'm unworthy of love. But this time, I had therapy, a newfound understanding of my borderline personality disorder and—just as importantly—I had 31 new songs and a plethora of soon-to-be classic Taylor Swift lyrics to help me accurately describe what was going on in my brain. I took a breath and explained. "I've got this sinking feeling that I'll never find anyone and this is my last chance—just like Taylor says on the song, 'The Prophecy.'"
For years, dark moods like this one had been impossible to acknowledge and put into words, let alone escape. |
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