Jul 8
It has been a while. Quiet. Everything has seemingly shut off. The few thoughts I have flitter quickly away. There are no more corners to explore, no more boundaries. I have the conclusions. I know where each piece of the puzzle fits. And it is grim. And there is no more to it than that. In the space of this last month I have made my therapist cry. Out of empathy. Or sympathy. Or something. It was not my intention. And when the therapist cracked I immediately softened right the way down and shifted to soothing them. Apologising. For sharing sufficient pain for them to be that sad. I warned them. A year ago. People are always confident right until the moment * after * they've just stepped off the cliff. So it goes. Human nature. Therapy has been quiet overall. I have little to say. The therapist pokes around the edges. My assessment of some time ago to stop therapy, would in the end seem to have been the right call. Not because I am "fixed". But just because there is noth...