I guess I'm having some kind of crisis of faith (in therapy) over here. It has just occurred to me how horrible I feel. Really, really horrible. And this is supposed to be HELPING me? I keep saying I trust my T and I trust the process, but I feel like I've just been hit over the head with the clue stick. THERAPY IS NOT HELPING.

Telling my story is not helping. I feel exponentially worse now than I did this time last week, and the reason is therapy. The reason is going in there week after week and going over trauma and reliving it. Reliving it all week, alone, in the dark and every time I let down my guard. Forcing myself to open up to my T only to have to go through the pain of being alone with the feelings dredged up in all those hours between sessions.

Sure, T is with me, when I'm there in her office. But as soon as I walk out the door I'm alone with this stuff and I have to say, I think I'm better off alone with it buried than alone with it unearthed and gnawing on my heart.