With T, I am slowly begnning to touch places inside me that have been simmering for many years.

As I go to these dark and scarey places, I am very cautiously experiencng the feelings that I so carefully buried as a child.

These experiences, moments, feelings, and places are pieces of me, of my self. And it's frightening to me for them to be out there, because then they are not in me and then who am I, if not the trauma?

I feel as though I leave pieces of me in T's office or with him and trust him to hold those pieces for me until I am ready to take them back; but for right now, I'm not ready. Neither here nor there. There's lots more digging out to do before the reconstruction begins.

So, for now, he will just have to hold my fragments for me, and I will have to trust him to do so. The relationship takes a turn and dives ever deeper. Sigh.