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.

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