At Least I’m Consistent?
Yesterday, dh was looking for a sketchbook…And I happen to have quite a few. So, I dug some out to see if any were to his liking. And I found a sketchbook I had started to journal in two years ago. Here are a few pages that I wrote. It looks pretty familiar…
The next two pages were a couple of days later.
(I am not sure what the reference to sex there was about…must be something that happened at the time, but I didn’t write about it.)
I am not quite sure what I think about the fact that I am still struggling with the same issues about the child-me (and crying)….Maybe with the Art Therapist, I will be able to find some resolution? I guess I forget sometimes how deeply ingrained my thought patterns are…I wonder when I first started hating the child-me…It probably happened a long, long time ago…When I figured out that vulnerability was a weakness and I had to push aside that weakness in order to survive. Of course, I didn’t consciously do it, so it just sort of feels like it has always been that way….Which makes it harder to undo. <sigh> So much of me needs fixing! I hope I am up to the task. (And I hope the AT is too.)