It’s mostly goat bleats, nervous laughter, and the occasional “Did I really just say that out loud?”
I thought healing would sound like wind chimes.
Maybe a flute.
Possibly a monk humming in the distance while I sipped chamomile and journaled by candlelight.
Nope.
It sounds like:
- Gigi the goat screaming during my breakthrough
- Me fake-laughing through a trauma flashback
- And a guttural snort that launches out mid-cry because healing is a goddamn circus
My recovery has a laugh track.
Not the soft, “awww”-cue kind.
The kind that plays right as the main character walks into a glass door again
and everyone claps because at least she’s trying.
This isn’t a Hallmark arc.
It’s a mockumentary written by my inner child
and directed by the version of me that used to eat cereal for dinner in the dark.
You want soft healing?
Go to a retreat.
I’m over here with:
- A weighted blanket I use like a cape
- A coffee mug that says “Don’t Talk to Me Unless You’re My Therapist”
- And a website powered by PTSD and pettiness
Every “aha” moment comes with its own sound effect.
Sometimes a goat scream.
Sometimes a sarcastic “ding.”
Sometimes a Spotify ad that knows way too much about my coping mechanisms.
People think I’m getting better.
I am.
Just not like they pictured.
I cry-laugh into tortilla blankets.
I host inner child comedy nights in my frontal lobe.
I post memes at 3 a.m. that double as recovery progress reports.
And guess what?
Every time I laugh at my own survival,
a trauma bond somewhere loses its grip.
So no, I’m not “healed.”
But I’m funny.
I’m functioning(ish).
And my laugh track?
Unskippable.
Because my pain had perfect comedic timing.
And now my punchlines come with merch.
My Recovery Has a Laugh Track
There’s a giggle when I cry,
A goat bleat when I wonder why.
Snort-laughs echo trauma lore,
And one feral cackle slams the door.
I tried to heal in silent dread,
But now my punchlines raise the dead.
So if you hear me sob, then cheer—
I’m just performing pain sincere.
—The Funny Phoenix, syncing healing to a sitcom beat
