When you start telling your secrets to your primary care physician on the day before Thanksgiving. While she checks your ears, you tell her you don’t hear voices but you’ve thought about suicide in a purely theoretical way; when she asks if these thoughts are making it hard to function in your daily tasks, you ask if she means like going to yearly doctor checkups; as she checks off your yearly mental health survey you tell her you think you might want to revise your answer about childhood sexual abuse—does making you keep the bathroom door open while you get ready to bathe when you were a child while calling you a faggot and then taking pictures of you crying count as sexual abuse? And now when you enter any restroom you immediately lock the door and run cold water over your wrists to cool the panic, you tell her, and how your wife has never seen you cry, you’ve cried only twice since junior high school in fact, and maybe panic attacks are your tears now. You repeatedly tell her “I’m sorry,” when what you really want to say is “This really happened,” not to her but to yourself.

What are the Sneaky Feels?

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AuthorJohn Proctor