Is Crying In Target A Sign?

Hypothetically—hypothetically—if you’ve cried in your car three times this week, yelled at your Wi-Fi router like it’s a person, and spent forty-five minutes wondering if your barista hates you because they didn’t draw a heart on your latte…

You might wanna sit down.

We’re gonna talk about therapy today.

Don’t worry. No clipboards, no couches, no "tell me about your mother"—unless that’s your vibe. This is just your millennial brain on vibes, spirals, and the low-stakes chaos of being A Person™.

Welcome to Shrink Wrapped. Let’s get into it.

So, you’re wondering if you need therapy. Maybe you had a casual meltdown in the grocery store because they moved the peanut butter, or perhaps you’ve been staring at your ceiling at 3 AM, contemplating every embarrassing thing you’ve done since 2007. Either way—welcome!

Needing therapy isn’t about being “crazy” (whatever that even means anymore). It’s about realizing that your brain is a messy, overworked intern who desperately needs a manager. And sometimes, that manager needs to be a professional with a clipboard and a well-practiced nod of understanding.

The truth is, if you’re even asking if you need therapy, that’s probably a solid clue. But don’t worry—we’re about to break it down. From chronic stress to emotional roller coasters that make Six Flags jealous, here’s how to tell if it’s time to book that appointment. Because knowing when to start therapy isn’t always obvious—it rarely slaps you in the face, it never hits you in the head with a cast iron pan a la Disney's Rapunzel, and there’s no flashing neon sign that says, “Congratulations! It’s time to unpack your emotional baggage!” But there are some clues you can pick up along the way that therapy might be a solid choice for you.

One way to tell? Your coping strategies aren’t… coping anymore. If they ever were, they were probably held together with emotional duct tape and blind optimism. And honestly? Same. Life throws curveballs like it’s trying to win a gold medal in existential dodgeball, and we’re all just out here with a paper plate for a shield, screaming, “It’s fine! I’ve got this!”

But sometimes? It’s not fine. Stress, anxiety, sadness—those little emotional gremlins—have a way of multiplying like they’ve been fed after midnight. Suddenly you’re knee-deep in the vortex, which is basically the mental health version of quicksand: the more you flail, the faster you sink.

So you do what you’ve always done: You double down on the coping mechanisms that kinda worked in the past. You vent to your bestie until your voice goes hoarse. You hit the gym like you're trying to outrun your feelings. You binge memes like you’re trying to summon dopamine through sheer force of will. You buy yourself a little treat, because capitalism taught us that self-soothing can be found in overpriced candles and oat milk lattes.

And sometimes? That’s enough. Sometimes that combo platter of chaos and comfort works for a minute. But other times? It’s just rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic. You're still sinking—you’re just doing it while holding a matcha and wearing cute leggings.

Enter: therapy. Not the "lie on a couch and sob while someone silently judges you" kind (although, hey, if that’s your jam, no tea, no shade, no pink lemonade). I'm talking about the real deal: someone trained in the art of helping you untangle your brain spaghetti without making you feel like a total disaster. A good therapist can call you on your BS with compassion, help you name what’s actually going on under the hood, and—crucially—hand you tools that didn’t come from TikTok or your group chat.

Because here’s the thing: Sometimes you need more than a vent session and a vibe check. Sometimes you need someone to help you climb out of the vortex instead of just learning to decorate it. Therapy doesn’t magically make things better (ugh, rude), but it gives you actual strategies—ones that are custom-fit for your particular brand of messy. And yeah, you’ll have to do the work. There’s no therapist on earth who can un-suck the vortex for you. But they can show you the map, give you a rope, and maybe even remind you that you’re not alone in there.

Speaking of getting sucked in—let’s talk about patterns. No, not the cute kind on throw pillows. I mean the emotional Groundhog Day where you keep finding yourself in the same damn mess, over and over again. Same toxic relationships, different names. Same self-sabotage, different opportunity. Same fight, different person. It’s like life keeps handing you the same script, and for some reason, you just keep auditioning.

Spoiler alert: it’s not because you’re broken. It’s because you're human. Creatures of habit, remember? We cling to what’s familiar, even if it’s terrible for us—like that one pair of jeans that hasn’t fit since 2018 but we refuse to let go of. Why? Because the unknown is scary, and the known (even when it's a dumpster fire) is at least… comfortable. Sort of like choosing to sit in a chair that’s on fire because, “Well, it’s my chair.”

But here’s the wild part: noticing the pattern is half the battle. And that’s where therapy comes in, wielding the emotional equivalent of a flashlight, a highlighter, and a crowbar. A good therapist can help you trace those patterns back to their source—whether it’s childhood stuff, trauma, attachment styles, or just plain bad luck with dating apps—and then help you deconstruct them. Not just understand why you keep winding up in these hot mess loops, but how to actually stop doing it.

And I won’t lie to you: breaking those cycles is hard as hell. It’s not like a quick unfollow or a fresh haircut (though yes, both are deeply therapeutic in their own ways). It’s more like emotional demolition followed by rebuilding from the inside out. It’s awkward. It’s painful. Sometimes it feels like your whole nervous system is throwing a tantrum. And just when you think you’ve figured it out, boom—surprise boss level. Welcome to the Emotional Rollercoaster Theme Park™.

We’re talking: The Loop-de-Loop of Old Habits, The Carousel of Codependency, The Ferris Wheel of "Should I Text Them?", And don’t forget the haunted house where your inner critic lives rent-free whispering, “Are you sure this is growth and not just a breakdown?”

But here's the good news: you can get off the ride. You can unlearn the script. You can stop auditioning for roles you didn’t even want in the first place. And yeah, your therapist is kind of like your guide in this chaotic theme park—pointing out the exits, reminding you that you don’t have to ride everything just because it’s there, and handing you snacks (okay, probably not actual snacks, but metaphorical ones).

So if you're seeing patterns that feel more like a glitch in the matrix than personal growth? That’s your invitation. Not to shame yourself—but to try something different. Because even if it’s terrifying, the freedom on the other side of the pattern is so much better than the same old emotional rollercoaster.

Do you feel out of sync with your emotions? Like your feelings are either dialed up to 11 or… just gone entirely? Congratulations, friend—you’ve unlocked another clue in the great emotional mystery that is being a human in this chaotic little society we’ve built.

If your emotions feel like they’re running a solo EDM festival in your chest—too intense, too frequent, and always at the worst possible moment—that’s not just “having a rough week.” That’s your nervous system quietly screaming for help. Constant anxiety, unexplained irritability, crying because your sock fell off weird? Yeah, those are not quirks. They’re alarm bells with glitter on them.

On the flip side, if you’re floating through your days like a ghost in a group chat—no highs, no lows, just vibes (and not the good kind)—that’s emotional numbness, baby. You’re not chill, you’re checked out. And while dissociation can feel like a comfy little emotional blanket, it’s more like emotional Wi-Fi being down. You’re buffering through life, and you deserve better than spinning wheels and grayscale feelings.

Therapy can be the reboot you didn’t know your brain needed. It’s not going to instantly make you a Disney princess singing with birds and feeling your feelings in perfect harmony. But it will help you start to figure out what the hell’s going on beneath the surface. Whether your emotions are blasting through the roof like a busted fire hydrant or just… not showing up to the party, therapy gives you the tools to actually understand and regulate them.

Because let’s be real—living in a constant emotional state of "fight, flight, freeze, or scroll TikTok until your eyes bleed" is not giving best life energy, but neither is walking through life like an NPC, barely registering joy, grief, or anything in between. Your life deserves color, contrast, and actual emotional texture—not just gray static or full-on meltdown mode.

And here’s the kicker: emotions aren’t the enemy. They’re information. Numbness? Tells you something’s been too overwhelming to feel. Intensity? Might be your brain trying to process stuff it hasn’t been able to deal with yet. Either way, therapy helps you learn to decode all of it—like emotional Rosetta Stone but with more crying and fewer ancient languages.

So if you’re feeling like a balloon about to pop or like a sad, underinflated pool float drifting through your own life, therapy might be the best party favor you didn’t know you needed.

Are your thoughts running the show? Like, full-on stage-managing your life with zero credentials and way too much caffeine? Which would be wild, considering your brain is literally just a squishy pile of electric Jell-O piloting a meat suit. A very opinionated meat suit.

I’m not even talking about normal overthinking like “Did I leave the stove on?” or “Why did I say ‘you too’ when the waiter told me to enjoy my meal?” No. I’m talking about the real inner chaos: the intrusive thoughts, the constant self-doubt, the internal monologue that sounds like Regina George, if she had a psychology degree and a vendetta.

If that little voice in your head talks to you in a way that you would never, ever tolerate someone saying to your best friend? That’s not “tough love.” That’s emotional sabotage wearing your own voice like a mask. I named mine Kevin, and I frequently tell him to shut up.

And listen, we all have a Kevin. Some people’s Kevins are quiet and passive-aggressive, like “Are you sure you’re good enough for that?” Others are full-blown chaos goblins: “Jump into the existential void, babe! YOLO!” (Do the kids still say YOLO?)

But real talk: if your thoughts feel more like a hostile work environment than a safe space, therapy is out here like HR for your inner world. It helps you untangle those mental spiderwebs you’ve been walking through in the dark. Because those thought patterns? They didn’t come from nowhere. They usually show up as a fun little gift from past experiences, trauma, family dynamics, or a culture that profits off your insecurity. Therapy helps you track those roots and start composting that internalized trash into something actually helpful.

And no, therapy isn’t going to turn your inner monologue into a 24/7 motivational speaker. This isn’t a Netflix original where everything wraps up in 90 minutes and suddenly you’re journaling at sunrise and drinking celery juice. The call of the void might still show up sometimes. That’s just part of the human experience. But with therapy? You’ll have the tools to go, “Hey Kevin, I hear you, but you’re wrong and also deeply annoying, so please take several seats.”

You get to turn the volume down. You get to rewrite the script. You get to decide that your brain doesn’t have to be a battlefield—you’re allowed to make it a home.

So if your brain feels more like a courtroom where you’re always on trial, or a haunted house full of whispers that aren’t helpful, take that as your sign. Darling, therapy is calling, and I think you should answer.

Are your relationships feeling harder than you think they should? Like every interaction is a weird emotional obstacle course, and you're just trying not to get hit in the face by another metaphorical dodgeball of miscommunication?

Guess what? That’s another flashing neon sign that therapy might be for you. Because here’s the tea: relationships—family, friends, romantic, situationships—can be messy and complicated, but they shouldn’t feel like emotional CrossFit every single day.

If you’re constantly finding yourself in the middle of conflict, misunderstanding, weird passive-aggressive standoffs, or that special kind of “this feels off but I can’t put my finger on it” emotional distance—you’re not broken. You’re not doomed. And you’re definitely not the only one.

Also—and this might sting just a little—you might be part of the problem. I say that with love, because same. We all bring our emotional baggage into our relationships like it's carry-on luggage. Maybe your people-pleasing tendencies are silently building resentment. Maybe you communicate like a cryptic raccoon who refuses to be vulnerable. Maybe you were never actually taught what a healthy boundary looks like because your family tree is basically a giant tangled ball of codependency wrapped in holiday trauma.

That’s where therapy comes in. Because therapists? They trained for like a million years to decode this exact kind of human mess. They know how to spot patterns. They can gently (or firmly, depending on their vibe) hold up a mirror and go, “Hey, maybe your partner isn’t a mind reader. And maybe ghosting your mom every time she asks a hard question isn’t emotional maturity.”

But it’s not all “fix yourself, bestie.” Therapy also helps you recognize when other people are bringing emotional dumpster fires into your life. Maybe that relationship is unhealthy. Maybe that friend isn’t just “brutally honest,” maybe they’re just mean. A good therapist won’t just help you see your role in the pattern—they’ll help you understand when the healthiest move is to walk away and preserve your peace like it’s the last cookie in the box.

And let’s be honest, walking away isn’t always easy. That’s when the therapist pulls out their invisible clipboard of life skills and starts helping you work through guilt, grief, and the deep desire to text them “just to check in.” You know, for closure. (Spoiler alert: you don’t need closure, you need boundaries.)

At the end of the day, therapy helps you create relationships that are actually worth having—ones where you’re seen, heard, respected, and not constantly doing the emotional equivalent of decoding ancient runes to figure out if someone’s mad at you.

Now, unfortunately, trauma happens. I know—rude. No one asked for it, no one ordered it, and yet here it is, showing up in your life like that one ex who just will not stop watching your Instagram stories. Trauma, change, upheaval—whatever you want to call it—it will test your mettle, and sometimes it does it while you’re already running on fumes and caffeine.

And look, not every trauma is a capital-T, Lifetime Original Movie kind of Trauma™. Sometimes it’s lowercase, italics trauma. Sometimes it’s just a series of “what the actual hell?” moments that sneak up on you like a ninja in Crocs. It could be something as “simple” as a breakup, a job change, a big move, or—brace yourself—your favorite grocery store doing that thing where they rearrange every aisle and you suddenly can’t find the peanut butter and spiral into an existential crisis in front of the pickles.

Or maybe it’s the Big Stuff. Divorce. Death. Abuse. A global pandemic (remember that cute little plot twist?). Things that come in and slap the stability out of your hands like a raccoon stealing a sandwich. And even when you think you’re “handling it”—you’re showing up, you're showering (most days), you're not crying in public (much)—it doesn’t mean you're actually processing any of it. It might just mean you’re surviving on autopilot with a little help from vibes and denial.

Here’s where therapy saunters in, holding a metaphorical emotional emergency kit.

Because even if you think you’re doing “okay,” therapy can help you peel back the layers and realize maybe, just maybe, that tight ball of tension in your chest isn’t “normal.” Maybe you’ve been gaslighting yourself into thinking, “It wasn’t that bad,” or “Other people have it worse,” or “I should be over this by now.” Spoiler alert: healing isn’t a speedrun. It’s not a competition. It’s not graded on a curve.

Therapy gives you the space to actually feel what happened. Not explain it away. Not meme it into oblivion. Not shove it into the Shame Closet™ next to the box labeled “weird 3am thoughts” and “times I cried during a dog food commercial.”

And here's the kicker—therapy isn’t just for when you’re actively melting down. It’s for when you’re almost melting down. For when you’re white-knuckling your way through life with a smile that says “I’m fine” and eyes that say “I’ve seen things.” It’s support. Perspective. Validation from someone who won’t just say “same” and send you a TikTok (even though that is sometimes a love language).

So whether you’ve been through the Big Stuff, the Small Stuff, or the “I don’t even know what this is but I hate it” Stuff—therapy’s there to help you make sense of it. To remind you that even if you’re still on the ride, you don’t have to do it without a seatbelt and a map.

You know that old adage, “If you see something, say something?” Yeah. That applies to more than just abandoned backpacks and suspicious subway behavior. It also applies to you, my love. If people in your life are saying something, chances are, they’re seeing something—something you maybe can’t, or more likely, won’t, because self-reflection is about as fun as reading the terms and conditions while hungover.

Let’s be real—looking inward is HARD. Who actually wants to hold up the mirror and say, “Ah yes, let me examine the contents of my soul today”? No one. It’s emotionally humid in there. And messy. And sometimes a little cringe.

But here’s the thing: the people around you? They can often see the shifts in you before you do. If your coworkers—who barely know how you take your coffee—are like, “Hey, are you… okay?” and you weren’t intentionally giving off cryptic sad Bambi energy… that’s probably a red flag gently flapping in the wind.

If your family—whether it’s your biological fam or your chosen crew—is checking in more than usual? If your mom’s texting “Just thinking of you!” twice a week even though she usually only texts about group chats and coupons? That’s a clue. Maybe even a clue in all caps.

And if your friends—your ride-or-dies—start hitting you with those “So have you ever thought about… maybe talking to someone?” vibes? That is not a clue, darling. That is not subtle. That is a Disney-grade frying pan to the face, Rapunzel style. It’s them loving you enough to risk being awkward and direct, which is peak friendship and also terrifying.

Because they see you. And when your sparkle starts to dim, when your emotional responses seem just a liiiittle out of whack, when you start canceling plans or laughing just a second too late—they notice. And when they say something? That’s their version of sounding the alarm. It’s not an attack. It’s not judgment. It’s a lifeline.

Now, does that mean you immediately have to pull out your phone and book a therapist right then and there? Not necessarily (though, like, maybe??). But it does mean it’s worth asking: “What are they seeing that I’m not? Or… what am I actively avoiding because I don’t want to deal with it?”

Because the truth is, sometimes the people around you aren’t projecting, or overreacting, or being dramatic. Sometimes, they’re right. And sometimes, when enough people are giving you the same nudge, it’s not a nudge anymore—it’s the universe trying to get through your emotional voicemail inbox that’s been full since 2016.

So next time someone says, “You okay?” don’t just hit them with the classic “Yeah, just tired.” Instead, maybe… be curious. Ask yourself why the question keeps coming up. Because odds are, they’re not trying to pry. They’re trying to help you see what you’ve been avoiding in the mirror. (And again, mirrors are rude, so we get it.)

Therapy’s not just for when you realize something’s off—it’s also for when everyone else is gently, lovingly, yelling “BABE. PLEASE.”

You know what’s actually amazing? Therapy isn’t just for when your life feels like a dumpster fire being pushed down a hill in a hurricane. It’s not just for when you’ve hit rock bottom and started digging. Therapy is also for the in-between. For the “meh.” For the “something feels off but I don’t know what.” For the “I’m doing okay, but what if I could be doing… great?”

It’s for growth. For clarity. For figuring your sh*t out without needing to be mid-spiral to justify it. You don’t even have to walk in with a PowerPoint of your traumas and goals. You can literally show up like, “Hi, I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’d like to not feel like I’m constantly ad-libbing my entire life,” and your therapist will be like, “Cool. Let’s start there.”

Therapy can be a basic maintenance function. Like getting your oil changed. Or flossing, but with emotions. You don’t wait until your engine explodes to go to the mechanic, right? So why wait until your brain is throwing error messages just to check in on yourself? Go in for a tune-up before you're crying in your car over a sock you dropped in the parking lot.

And yes, your therapist might start to feel like your best friend… That you happen to pay… And only spend an hour with every other week. But like... is that last part really that different from adult friendship anyway? I mean, when was the last time you saw your actual best friend without rescheduling three times, showing up emotionally exhausted, and then spending half the hang talking about how tired you both are?

A therapist is like a magical hybrid between a wise oracle, a mental wellness coach, and a human mirror who somehow remembers everything you said six months ago and brings it back at just the right time to emotionally wreck you in the most healing way possible. They are an unbiased, nonjudgmental third party who isn’t just there to say, “You’re doing great, sweetie,” but to actually help you understand what’s working in your life—and what’s not.

They’re not gonna gaslight you with toxic positivity or tell you to “just be grateful” when your life feels like a Hot Mess Express. They’ll help you unpack why you feel stuck, challenge the mental junk you didn’t even know you were carrying, and give you tools so you’re not just surviving, but thriving—yes, I said it. Thriving. Like a well-watered houseplant on a sunny windowsill. But with better boundaries and less existential dread.

So even if everything feels mostly fine right now—like you’re coasting on neutral vibes and oat milk—therapy can still help you level up. Because you deserve more than just getting by. You deserve a life that feels aligned, not just tolerable. A life where you’re not constantly wondering if you’re doing it wrong, but actually feeling like you’re in the driver’s seat.

You don’t have to wait until your life is a full-blown, four-alarm dumpster fire careening downhill with the soundtrack of your internal screaming echoing in the background to try therapy.

You really don’t.

You don’t have to be mid-meltdown, mid-breakup, mid-existential crisis—or mid-anything. You can just feel… off. A little stuck. Like life is weirdly heavy for no obvious reason and you’re out here dragging your emotional roller suitcase through the airport of existence, unsure of what gate you’re even heading to.

Maybe you’re wondering why you always do that thing you do—you know the one. The pattern you swear you’re done with until oops, you’re doing it again, except this time it’s wearing a different outfit and calling you by a pet name. Yeah. That one.

Guess what? Therapy’s got you.

It’s not about being “broken.” (Spoiler: you're not. Even if your inner critic—hi Kevin—says otherwise.) It’s about getting curious. About learning why you are the way you are, and whether that version of you is working, or if it’s time to download the emotional software update. It’s about gently poking the weirdness with a stick, untangling the knots, and maybe—just maybe—starting to like the person you’re becoming.

Because honestly? The bar is so low. “Make life suck less” is a perfectly valid goal. And therapy helps you do exactly that. Sometimes it’s deep and profound. Sometimes it’s messy and confusing. And sometimes it’s just someone looking you in the eye and saying, “Hey, that thing you’re carrying? You don’t have to do it alone.”

And seriously—who wouldn’t want that?

Look, I get it. Therapy sounds like a Big Thing. And yeah, sometimes it is. But sometimes it’s just showing up, talking to someone who isn’t emotionally entangled in your group chat drama, and realizing that maybe—just maybe—you don’t have to do this whole life thing without backup.

So whether you're deep in the vortex, stuck in a pattern, feeling emotionally fried, or just trying to live your best damn life—therapy could be your next best move.

And if no one’s told you lately? You’re not too much. You’re not broken. You’re just a very cool, very tired human trying to figure it out.

And that? Is more than enough.

Catch you next time on Shrink Wrapped—where the feelings are real, the trauma is processed, and Kevin gets told to shut up regularly.

Please don't forget to like, subscribe, and share this episode with anyone you think might also need therapy (spoiler alert: it's everyone).