Here we go folks. This is when it got real. So real, I could barely handle it.
I wanted to write a happy post today. I really did. I have procrastinated all morning. Watching old recordings on my DVR, bringing my free space to a respectable number again… trying to think of topics that work. However, the topic at hand has pursued me all week. Relentlessly. My guess is that all that therapeutic work is at play here: I am trying to avoid the inevitable, and it can’t be done. I’m scared, and there’s no getting around it. So, might as well write it out.
As a child, I spent years terrified of becoming an orphan. After my father’s death in a car crash, when I was ten, I was convinced that my mother was next. Every time she was late, every time she went on a trip, every time I didn’t know where she was… my mind took over and created scenarios that left me alone…
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