I quit therapy. Quit quit quit. It is too too painful and I’m not going back. No way.
From an email I thought about but did not write and did not send to Ron. Therapy hurts.
I’m just going to write how I feel. Pretty bad. I can’t stand that I’m in parts. It seems such a huge awful thing. Telling the group about it made it seem more real. But though I felt a jab of it there, once I got home, it seemed OK. Then I went for therapy. We didn’t even discuss it a lot. I mentioned how I don’t know how to describe what I felt at the end of the group. Like an earthquake, I try. Devastated, Ron says. Devastated. Yes that fits.
It’s kind of like a huge emptiness, thin, surrounded by a black border. Like those cells you sliced, coloured and put on a slide in biology class? I feel like that cell, magnified to fill vast regions of space. Then subdivided. It is tinted green though, a nice translucent deep green, my favorite colour.
Hmm…cells are alive, but not conscious. This one is a specimen for study. Not what I want to be.
When it was just me and Ron and well, yes, this blog, I could be making it up. Parts. Just a manner of speaking. Telling six other people – makes it seem real.