A long road up to recovery
Next week, Elizabeth and I start therapy together. And I’m kind of scared.
What am I scared of? I don’t know. Am I scared that a counsellor will help us to realise that we are no good together any more? Surely, that’s better than the alternative of staying together in such a situation.
Am I scared of talking about Natasha, and bringing up all of Elizabeth’s hurt and pain again?
Am I scared of talking about Natasha, and bringing up all of my own hurt and pain — and confusion?
Am I scared that, on consulting a counsellor, we will end up staying together and being unhappy?
I don’t know, but my stomach feels like it is full of bees.
In the weeks since the event I have told Elizabeth details about my depression, have been caught out self harming and had to explain suicidal ideation. I don’t know if it’s clear to her these things existed pre-Natasha.
The whole series of events might have prompted some emotional reactions, but I was sick to start with.