The last time I saw my therapist, I said I hope I’d never see him again. That would mean everything was okay.
It’s been about two months now. A lot of the healing I’ve been doing lately has been about not blaming myself for the past. Tragedy and pain are easier to accept when there’s a reason. Often, it was easiest to deal with both if I was that reason, even though it wouldn’t leave me feeling very good about myself.
But sometimes there are no answers, nothing to point the finger at when things fall apart. Looking back on old plans and important people, given the knowledge I had at each stage in my life, I realize I would have done everything exactly the same, every single time. Understanding that has given me a sense of self-respect again, and helped me come to terms a lot of things I found difficult to get over.