Journal entry #1


After driving home from my first therapy session.
I parked my car and sat there for a while.

Digesting, I guess you could say.
I let the words of my therapist circle my brain like a category 5 hurricane.

Her master plan of getting me over you, our divorce, and all the pain that still firmly consumed me was something I really didn't want to do.

(Make a musical playlist of all the songs that reminded/remind you of your ex husband. Find songs that he's dedicated to you, sang to you or just songs that hold sentimental value to you. Furthermore, she said I needed to cry, grieve, let it all out some way.)

But I didn't want to.
Why dig up **** you've buried?
Why resurrect what's been dead?
Breathe life back into feelings I wish never existed?

I sat in my car for hours.
Hating the idea of resurrecting my love, my feelings for you.
And I'll admit I got close.
Almost convinced myself to blow it all off...
Say to hell with this ****.

But then I heard my mothers words ring out in my mind.
"I see your pain and it brings me nothing but pain. I don't see my daughter when I look at you. All I can see is the reflection of your pain in your eyes."

It cut deep, not ganna lie.
And if you knew me personally, you'd know how much I love and adore my mother.

I exhaled in defeat...
Rolled my eyes...
Got out of the car dreading what I knew I had to do.