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.