1. Movement heals.
Every time I was upset, dad would get in the car and take me for a drive. We did not drive to go anywhere. Most of the time our only stop would be at the same place we had initially started — but it always worked, because whatever was initially bothering me would disappear. My focus would move from my mind, to the car, to the pothole on a road, to a strange funny name that would make me giggle — who the hell would call a town Ranholas? (Snot…olas?) He never drove me to go somewhere specific, he drove so I could get out of the place where I was mentally.