I'm having second-thoughts about continuing therapy.

Something isn't working. I don't know what it is, but I know it. I feel it. I can almost taste it, too.

Something has changed. Shifted. Morphed.

But I don't know what.

It's strange, because everything started out great. But the more sessions I have, and the more J. knows, the worse I am beginning to feel.

I know. I know.

Things get worse before they get better. (that's how trauma works)

But I'm tired. And time is ticking by.


C. W.