..and things are so much better, in the main The paralyzing pain is gone. Thinking about her many times every day is gone. She still floats across my brain regularly for sure, but usually in a neutral sort of way.

Since then, I have gone a long way towards repairing my relationships with my family. The relationship between my mum and I is not remotely perfect, but when I think back on how damaging my so-called therapy was, how it so aggressively drove a wedge between my mum and I..well I am gobsmacked.

In the morning, I start sessions with a short term therapist. We had an assessment a couple of weeks ago, and since then, my original crackpot therapist is more present in my head - I even dreamed about her for the first time in ages. It wasn't an upsetting dream, it was nice. Which made me a bit nostalgic.

The new therapist seems good, very nice, well-educated, is clear about structure and I just like her. EXCEPT she kind of moves her mouth at times (when she's listening to me) in a way that reminds me of the Crackpot The similarity doesn't last at all once she starts speaking - there's nothing else that reminds me of Crackpot.

I was feeling pretty cheerful and interested in starting tomorrow, but now on the night before I feel - well, rather wary. I really, really don't want to be dragging up stuff that I have finally been able to stop stewing about.

The report to the Crackpot's regulatory body is underway, but I am going very, very slowly with it. First steps are legal advisory meetings.

Two weeks ago, I also started a kind of DBT-lite. It's a group for learning skills, for people on the wait list for full on DBT. Again, it is very interesting and I'm sure will prove useful, and I have a lot of respect for one of the group leaders (who assessed me) as her integrity seems outstanding.

I suppose I am scared - scared of going into another stupid foolish headf#ck. I'm worried that the Crackpot damaged something permanently, in one way or another.

I've said it before on here, but metaphorically it reminds me of a friend of mine who used to take heroin. Finally something in him snapped and he got off the heroin, he wanted to have a life, so he got clean. But even so - he would tell you no feeling came close to the euophoria of the good times on heroin. Nothing in real life came close. Obviously, he knew it would destroy him to go back on drugs so he had to accept he would never feel that joy and happiness again.

Sometimes I worry I did a therapy version of this. The highs of therapy with Crackpot were unreal, so exciting and wonderful - but what if I never feel so excited or happy or loved again. Even if it was all a sham. Just like heroin ain't real either...

And going back into therapy, even though it IS safe and sensible and I've got away from Crackpot - feels like I'm sitting in the room with someone smoking heroin, and I can smell it and my alarm bells are going crazy with a mixture of excitement and tension.

Would you go? Or would you take it as a big sign to STAY THE HELL AWAY from the shrink community at the moment? Or just do the DBT class on its own?

Waaahh That was cathartic at least.