I have started with a new therapist. There is no one who needs one more. My unicorn-meat eating cats all agree that it's time that I moved on with my life after my last therapist moved to Richmond two years ago. I think because of me. The new one, has no idea what's in store for him, but life is full of surprises, no? It will be good for him.
It's a bit like someone dumping a dog on me that I didn't want after my sweet Eddie died. Surprise! The only reason the unicorn-meat eating cats accept him is that he is so very thrilled that they accept him. At least he knows his place in the universe. Dogs are good for something. They are a valley that the cats gaze into from their god-like position on the peaks.
As for the new therapist and the dog, they help me laugh at the unlaughable. Rape, stalking, addictions, life events, it's all grist for the mill. After all, the lighter stuff I can make fun of myself. For free..
Many people, mostly women, have been through what I have. I just figure that I have burned enough bridges that now I can write about it. Also, writing is very contemplative, comforting, and unlonely. I am willing to get naked on a page to talk to you. You should be flattered. I don't think of everyone that way.
I have been to a place without hope and you should not go there without some kind of guide, or at least not without someone with a very big torch. And throw in a unicorn-meat eating cat or two. And take a creative writing course while you are there. You need all the help you can get.