One Day at a Time, Part 1 ~ Just the Crystals
A Storytelling Matters Blog
At Psychotherapy Matters, we know that stories have the power to connect us, to remind us that we are not alone, and to give voice to experiences that are often difficult to put into words. That’s why we’re introducing Storytelling Matters. This new series uses fictional retellings of mental health struggles to highlight both the reality of these challenges and the value of collaborative care.
Her lips were stained with red wine, and her face was drawn—ghostly, even. Her long, raven hair was barely held together by two measly bobby pins. She didn’t even feign a smile as she opened the door to greet me. Her sadness carried a hint of shame—shame at being sad again, when everyone else appeared to be so happy.
“The place is a mess,” she whispered in apology. Early morning sun streamed through dusty windows and haphazardly shut drapes. Her apartment smelled of stale bread and Chanel No. 5, as if food was an afterthought to staying feminine amid the rubble of her life. The world was a dark place right now for my friend. It had always been, really. Lately, though, it had become unbearable.
She was thin and weak, bruised by circumstance, buried under.
I placed my purse and coat on an old wooden chair and sat down across from her on a futon covered with clothes. She was curled up on the old red sofa, knees tucked into her chest, eyes focused on the floor. I was thirsty, but decided to wait a while before asking for or helping myself to some water.
“Who am I kidding? I’m the mess,” she quipped.
I sat back, crossed my legs, and observed her kindly. “You’re raw in your mess,” I said softly. “Everyone is a mess inside. We’re just at varying levels of practice in hiding it.”
She scoffed but said nothing. The past month had been brutal. Her partner had left, she’d lost her job, and she stood to lose her apartment if nothing changed soon. All that appeared to make Jill Jill had been stripped away in the span of days. But this wasn’t her first collapse. It never was. Jill had lived with the undertow of sadness her whole life—it simply wore different outfits depending on the season.
She was, without a doubt, at rock bottom.
A great place to start. But I wouldn’t say that today. No. Today, I would just listen.
“Jess isn’t answering my texts,” she said, wiping at her runny nose. She was sobbing quietly. “She’s done with me. I messed everything up when I called her names and told her she’s just like her mother. She’ll never take me back.”
I took a deep breath. “She might not, honey.”
Jill howled at that and keeled over to the side, clutching a lumpy pillow to her chest.
“I…have…nothing…left,” she managed to squeeze out between heavy, tear-laden breaths. Jill tended toward melancholy even on the best of days. The stripped-down state of her life now left her exposed to a constant barrage of barely masked suffering.
I leaned forward. “You have me,” I said. “But this pain is overwhelming right now. I can see that. So let’s start small, yeah? What needs to be done today? What bills need to be paid? How can we get you through the next few weeks?”
She took a deep breath and waited a few moments before replying. “My parents paid my bills yesterday and loaned me money for rent. I’m good for this month,” she said.
I smiled reassuringly. “Okay, so you have them too. That’s wonderful.”
“Yeah, it’s just…”
“I know. They’re not Jess, and this can’t go on forever. But let’s keep it simple. Let’s go one day at a time.”
She squeezed the pillow tighter and dipped her chin to her chest. “Where did my life go? One minute I’m in love and employed, heading toward…I dunno…marriage? A family? And then the next, it’s gone. All of it. And I’m supposed to what? Buy groceries? Eat?! I’m supposed to just find another job like that?!” she shouted, snapping her fingers.
I took a deep breath and kept my voice soft. “When things settle a little, you might begin to see that there were some clues leading up to this fallout. But you don’t have to think about that today.”
“Clues? Oh yeah, I’m a loser. That’s your clue, Carrie. I ruin everything I touch. Other than my parents, you’re the first person to come by since she left. No one wants depression in their lives. They want sunshine and backyard pools. I bring people down. I did it to Jess. Don’t get too close, Carrie. I’ll do it to you.”
There it was: the darkness. Better out than in, though. This I know. I’m no therapist, but I’ve lived enough to know it’s hard to see through the black. The light feels so far. We have to clutch onto anything steady in order to make it out. Jill needed to clutch.
“Oh, I’m good, Jill. You’re awesome, but you’re not that powerful. Your bark is way worse than your bite.”
She didn’t smile, but she sat back up and put the pillow aside. Reaching for her phone, she frowned as she looked at the screen, then put it back down. No word from Jess was my guess.
I breathed in and silently offered a prayer for her. Closing my eyes, I saw bright, shiny stones in my mind’s eye. It was time for a new tactic.
“When was the last time you went outside?” I asked innocently.
Her head shot up, eyes meeting mine. “No,” she said sharply.
I swallowed. “I’m not going to make you go anywhere. And I won’t make you eat, not right now, anyway.”
She visibly relaxed. “I got some wine last night. Why?”
“Oh, I saw there’s a tiny store that sells crystals around the block. I was wondering if you’d come with me.”
Jill narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but I had her. I knew it. Jill loved crystals.
“I thought we could pick up some Labradorite and Moonstone. You know, to help ease you through these life changes.”
Without a word, she got up. She disappeared into the bathroom and reemerged with her stained T-shirt tucked into her yoga pants and a slightly less messy bun. It was a start.
“Just the crystals,” she said.
“Okay.”
“I’m not eating,” she said, catching my eyes as we headed toward the door.
“Okay, Jill.” I opened the door and motioned for her to walk through. “I love you,” I said.
She sighed and ambled through. “I know,” she said.
We walked in silence. She was slow, but her eyes were open to the street, to the life around her. A tiny bit of colour had crept back into her cheeks by the time we reached the shop. It wasn’t much. But it was something.
And as we stood there, palms open, letting the shopkeeper drop smooth stones into our hands, I gently said, “Jill… have you thought about talking to someone? A therapist, I mean. Someone who really knows how to help with this kind of pain?”
She didn’t answer at first. Instead, she turned a piece of Moonstone over in her palm, watching it catch the light.
“I’ve seen therapists before,” she muttered. “But it didn’t stick.”
“Maybe it’s time to try again,” I said gently. “There’s this site called psychotherapymatters.com. They match you with someone who actually gets what you’re going through—and they can help you find a psychiatrist too, if that’s what you need.”
She was still for a long moment. Then she looked at me—not all the way open, but not shut down either.
“Maybe,” she said. “We’ll see.”
It was enough for now.
Stories remind us of our shared humanity. They help us reflect, grow, and find new ways forward—even in the most difficult seasons. That’s why Storytelling Matters is not just about raising awareness of collaborative care through fictional narratives; it’s also about inviting therapists to explore the power of storytelling in their own lives and practices.
If you’d like to take this exploration further, join us for our next Collaborative Care Conference: Writing for Reflection—A Self-Care and Growth Tool for Therapists.
📅 Tuesday, October 27 | 7:00 PM ET | Online via Zoom
💻 Free for PM Members
Writing isn’t just for our clients. It can be a powerful practice for therapists, too. ✨
In this one-hour workshop, Danielle Hines—published author, professional writing coach, and PM’s Manager of Communications and Outreach—will guide you through reflective writing strategies designed to reduce burnout, strengthen resilience, and deepen your clinical insight.
🌿 Walk away with simple tools and prompts you can begin using right away.
👉 Register today and join us online