Category: Aftermath
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The Inferior Option
Today is the first day I haven’t sat with documents open on my screen, going over them with a fine-tooth comb. My OT asked me to look for the little glimmers. This is one. This is what progress looks like now. When you’ve spent three years with a therapist slowly becoming the centre of your…
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I Don’t Know What I’m Feeling
I don’t know what I’m feeling. I can’t access the depth of it, so it feels like there’s nothing overly deep there. For three years my feelings were inverted and invalidated. Now I just feel empty. When I do find something, it sits in the pit of my stomach. It fluctuates between sickness and heartache.…
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The Neoliberal Elixir
I don’t know what you’re supposed to do with the wreckage of therapy harm. Nobody in my life has had their trust taken apart by the person they paid to keep them safe, so the advice defaults to the only script anyone has: maybe you should talk to someone about it. The official prescription for…
