Silent
It seems a lifetime since I've written on this blog, since I could bring myself to say much of anything at all. But here I am, trying to figure out how to work through it all so I don't let the wound heal over the infection. So it doesn't fester and poison me from the inside out. Though, in truth, there's a part of me that would accept that fate. A part of me who thinks that maybe I deserve it. A part of me, small but true, who thinks that pain might be preferable to working through any of what I'm feeling. What I'm feeling right now is a lot of nothing. The nothing wasn't the first thing, though. The first thing I felt was sadness and then, like a hot pan flashing over with fire, rage. Rage is one of the hardest emotions to cope with; I know this, I'm a therapist. It's easy to cry or scream but true, deep seeded rage? What can we do with that to make is constructive? I could't figure it out, so I dissociated. I turned it into the n