Healing is a slow, annoying, mind-bending process that sometimes feels like trying to do yoga in a straightjacket. And when life gets quiet, my brain—being the chaotic cunt it is—fills the silence with worst-case scenarios and imaginary arguments with people I haven’t spoken to in years. Staying in my Positive Polly era is a full-time job, but sometimes it just feels like the world is crumbling and I’m stuck underneath it with a tiny plastic spoon and a half-charged vibrator for support.