I finally made an appointment with a therapist. Part of me refuses to believe I need it. I mean I am doing much better, my outlook is positive, most of the darkness is gone from my thoughts. I can come up with a hundred reasons why I don’t really need therapy and they are all good arguments. But all I need is one reason to go and that is love.
I am afraid to bring up my past. I am afraid to dredge up memories and hurts that may send me into a tailspin that I may struggle to get out of . What if it sends me back? What if I lose all the ground I have made? What if it breaks me.
I don’t want to feel the pain. I don’t want to hurt. I don’t want to break.