Realised this weekend the implications of what happened to me with the priest.

Realised he was "grooming" me.

Realised it was only an accident that I got away relatively safe.

I feel so guilty, so mixed up, so scared - even though much of this is illogical.

T says it's because I didn't process it back then - I forgot about it for 20 years.

Before all this I wasn't sure about how memories could be forgotten. Now I know they can.

Living with constant anxiety and fear, a churcning knot in my stomach, yet still trying to carry on working. I want to retreat, hide away. I can't cry about it. I don't know what to do about it, how to live with it. The urge to hurt myself is strong and I have lost all the ground I thought I had made in recovering from this depression.