Seems I broke my therapist. Though she said I didn't. Literally half way through session. I wrote some stuff down, she read it and then said she couldn't do it anymore. Working. Said she thought she could but should have taken her supervisor's advice. Should have stayed off work for longer. She said she just wants to do the right thing, to be helpful, and realised that she wasn't being helpful, that she was too exhausted to be able to see clearly.

In some way, I get it, because she was totally off the mark, and what she was saying was pushing the parts of me that need her right now away with her words, but it is little consolation for what I am feeling right now. I am cury sat on the other side of the road from her house, on my blanket on a patch of grass, and I don't want to leave.

She said I needed to keep me, Little One and Teenage One safe, and the best way I know how to do that right now is just to sit here. Trying to make some sense of everything.

I didn't get to say goodbye. Not properly anyway. I didn't get to show her the things I had planned to show her today. I feel like I am sat in the gutter right now. And that this is where I belong. I know it isn't, but right now it feels like it is, and I am staying here.