One day you’ll have to let it go

…well he wishes he could escape this
but it all seems so contagious
not to be yourself and faceless
in a song that has no soul

i remember feeling low
and i remember losing hope
and i remember all the feelings and the day they stopped

we are we are all innocent
we are all innocent
we are we are
we are we are all innocent
we are all innocent
we are we are…

…one day
you’ll have to let it go
you’ll have to let it go
one day
you stand up on your own
you stand up on your own
remember losing hope
remember feeling low
remember all the feelings and the day they stopped

we are
we are all innocent
we are all innocnet
we are we are
we are
we are all innocent
we are all innocent
we are we are

one day
you’ll have to let it go
you’ll have to let it go
one day
you’ll stand up on your own
stand up on your own

we are we are all innocent….
-Our Lady Peace, Innocent-

I started this entry yesterday, but didn’t have time to finish it. Tho I hadn’t planned on writing very much more.

Therapy yesterday. Was made much more difficult by the fact that I sent off a rant-filled email to J. Thinking that she wouldn’t get it til morning, by which point my mood would’ve shifted. Or, at least that was the plan. As usual, my plans didn’t go as planned.

Cuz about, oh, 35 minutes after sending said email, my phone rings. how long til my soul gets it right, can any human being ever reach that kind of light. I call on the restless soul of galileo, king of nitevision, king of insight, yeaaah…. And I thought about not answering. Let it “ring” until “king of nite-vision” which, I usually pick it up before the first line is thru. But I had taken my meds already. And it’s rare that she calls me, without me first asking her to…so. I answered. Was informed that she felt like making a bit of a visit to me. I tried to get out of it cuz. I just. *shrugs* I wasn’t much in the mood to be “helped” I guess. My apt was (is) quite a gross mess. So eventually we compromised, and met at her therapy office. Which is essentially directly across from my apt, just 2.5 streets in between.

And I nearly didn’t even go. But then I figured that she’d just end up either calling again, or showing up at my door. She’s a self-proclaimed bull dog. :op Pit bull? Whichever is the kind that just refuses to let go. *sigh*

Yeah. Well. I was medicated and so there wasn’t much therapy going on. Mostly I think I just walked in, sat on the couch, then she walked me home. Somehow my hairtie got left at her office tho? Not sure at all how that occured. Just know that I woke up the next morning and it wasn’t on my wrist, and I had no clue where it had gotten to.

Anyways. Got to my apt, don’t really remember actually walking up the stairs. Put some pj’s on and by the time I crawled in to bed she had put the cd that was in my portable cd player into the stereo cuz apparently I was being completely inconsiderate, and she carried my cd player and other things home. Oi.

Ended up giving her sharp things. Which. I was angry about the next day. And. Honestly? I don’t recall ever really being angry at J. But. This time I was. *sigh* Hooray for biting the hand that feeds you, or something like that…

And then she said she was just gonna hang out til I fell asleep, which I guess she did cuz I woke up at some point and was like “be careful walking home!” but I think she had already left, heh.

Yeah. So. Didn’t have any desire whatsoever to show my face at therapy the next day. But I did. And. We talked. Actually told her I was angry with her. And. She didn’t like, yell at me or anything (duh. like she would’ve? why is my brain so stupid?) Don’t think she got mad at me. So.

And. Talked. About other things. Which. She suggested, could perhaps be why I completely broke this week. Cuz I couldn’t figure out why I was just spiralling and spiralling. So. She thought p’raps these things were contributing.

Anyways.

Yeah.

She lent me a book. the sexual healing journey: A guide for survivors of sexual abuse

Yeah. No more now.