December 23rd, 2019


That, at least ...

I was able to get in to see my therapist today ... and we have an appointment for the 31st.

I can never remember the good stuff ... only the trauma.

I could make cookies brilliantly a dozen times, but only the burnt batch will stick in my mind.

And because everything I initially pull up about the past is horrible, my expectations for the future are hideous.

I want to curl up in a ball and hide in a corner.