When I share very very painful traumatic stuff (and i mean very violent stuff) with my T I feel so alone because he rarely says anything in the way of a response. I just sit there ... we have these long silences... because I am uncomfortable, don't know what to say next, and it just feels like a retraumatization almost. Like, great, here is another person who doesn't give a good damn. I want to scream sometimes. Like, listen Therapist, you have no idea what it is like to be 13, running shoeless and half- naked through city streets, covered in blood, trying to get help but noone will help .... and then come all these years later to a therapist ... to speak the unspeakable... and to have it feel the exact same f-ing way.