Went to therapy. It was everything I hate about therapy and nothing I like about therapy.

Had crappy stupid flashback moment. Unexpected, talking about something completely unrelated to the flashback, and was triggered by a word. BY A WORD. A normal, everyday word. I tried to bring myself back, it almost worked, and then it got worse. I know T talked me through it, but I felt like a big disappointment because he was so proud of me last week for finding my way out myself.

Didn't want to go there again, at ALL, so ended up talking about nothing for the rest of the $75, 90 minute session.

Talked about financial stuff. T didn't offer a solution or a reduced rate, and I didn't ask. He thought maybe I was punishing myself by giving up therapy. I thought maybe I was having this feeling like "if I give up therapy, I will be able to make the dog well"...when there really is nothing that will make him well. That was kind of it. T was like "yeah, all of this financial stuff sucks". The end. Whatever. And yes, I should have asked, but I felt like the answer would be no, so it felt pointless.

At the end of session, T sat with me. I needed reassurance and asked for it and he redirected it completely. He talked about how needing the reassurance was a sticking point (?? I can't remember the exact words). He talked about my H. I told him that if I could believe that I'm okay, that I'm loved, etc. I wouldn't BE IN THERAPY.

So. I basically pulled away. I moved away from him on the couch. I pulled out my calendar and checkbook. I wrote him his stupid giant check. We looked at the schedule for the month and the day I CAN go (Friday) is only open one week, so he has me on Thursdays, which is really difficult, and which I probably can't do every week.

So. Flashbacks, disconnection, disappointment. I left feeling too needy, and super icky.

Stupid, stupid, stupid therapy.