My absence from my blog has been due to my physical health related problems. That, and my ensuing depression. All of which have gotten me to the place I am today ~ inside the House of Truth. At least The House of Truth as I know it today, in this moment at this particular juncture in time, at this fork of this road.
I have returned to therapy. About time. That’s right. About motherfucking time. Or would that be about mother fucking time? Whatever. It is time. And I am doing it. Not fucking. Not even fucking around ~ not this time. I am participating in therapy in a different way than ever I have done before two weeks ago.
Meaning? I am raw. real. no pretenses. no good girl persona. no bad girl disguise. defenses, gone baby gone. Why? How? Why now? I am just ready. That. And writing a check for $175 for a 50 minute hour seems to keep me on point. Cuts through the bullshit. Stops the spin before the tales get spun, if you receive my meaning. And I hope she does. My treating psychologist that is.