A Letter to my Therapist

To My Therapist,

I don’t understand why I keep looking to the past. Why I can’t just stay in the present. It’s like I’m trying to look for some kind of proof. Something that proved something. Only, I don’t know what that is. Why did I go back through my emails and download old modeling photos of myself? Why did I look at those photos from 2008 and the years surrounding it? What was I looking for? What do I want to prove? Who do I want to prove it to? Why why why why why.


I wrote a blog today. That prompted me to look at past blogs. I skimmed them. I don’t know if it does me any good to read what I’ve already written. Gotten my thoughts and feelings out once. Why read those words again and potentially dredge up old feelings again? Why can’t I leave it alone. Do you know I was abused? Raped? Sold for sex? Of course you do. You’ve been listening to me talk for over ten years. But I don’t believe it. I don’t believe it. The one thing I do know and believe is that you will never leave me. One day you may retire but you will still be there. One day you may no longer be on earth but everything you have taught me will be a part of me still then. Feelings come and go and I remain. That’s the most important thing I have learned from you. I want you to tell me that phrase over and over again. I won’t get mad at you. It won’t get old. Tell me, please. Tell me that my feelings will come and then they will go. Tell me that I will still remain in existence.


I didn’t kill myself. “Not yet.” At least, I haven’t killed myself yet. But the funny thing is, and there is nothing funny about it, that I don’t want to kill myself anymore. Not right now. I don’t want to kill myself. I don’t want to die.
Tonight I ate a lot of cheese and carbs. I had Trader Joe’s gorgonzola gnocchi microwaved from frozen. I ate the whole packet. Then I had a slice of cheesecake, which I defrosted from the freezer by leaving it out on the counter for a while. It was pretty good! I enjoy food. Eating food is a part of living. I am alive. I do what living people do. I eat and poop and go to work and sleep and get up the next day and do it again. I do what living people do, which means that I must be alive and living. I never thought I would make it this far. I never thought that I would, in 2021, still be alive. The grand master plan was to be dead long ago. But that didn’t happen.


Thank you for listening to me. Thank you for being my one person audience. Thank you for always reading the words that I write and for never giving up on me. Thank you for allowing me to reschedule our next appointment although I would have much rather kept the appointment, but I am prioritizing seeing my brother over seeing you. Living people also have priorities. I make priorities. I decide what gets to happen in my life. My life, my choice. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. I don’t have to have sex with anyone if I don’t want to. I get to decide now. I get to make those decisions. I get to see you, or not. I get to be me. I get to keep on living.


Talk to you soon.

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