“Can you talk about it now?” my therapist asks, “When you open your mouth, do words come out?”
“I don’t want to go back there again,” I admit, “to talk about it feels like time traveling.”
“I don’t blame you, but clearly, it needs to be revisited.”
I look away. I disagree.
She asks, “or would you rather do it through your dreams? Because either way, its coming. Or through your blackouts, your relationships? Think about it.”
I do. I agree. Still, I say nothing. It wasn’t a successful session.
“Ok, we’ll try again next week.”