[Zenobia]

I now have 4 puncture wounds on my forearm. I don't understand why I am doing this. I was ok just a few days ago, I would call myself happy and confident. Now I am ramming a needle in my arm. It doesn't make sense. Life hasn't changed. Nothing different is going on other then having to call the garage to make an appointment for a brake inspection/repair which I knew I was going to have to do for at least a week. Is it because the trip is getting nearer? Is it because I made an appointment with my therapist, the first one since november. I lie awake wondering what I should tell him. I think that is it. I lie awake thinking about what I am going to talk about. Forty-five minutes is not enough time to talk about everything so what thing is most important. I ponder this question and turn it over in my mind and all th sludge that I have been burying deep down because there was no way for me to deal with it at the time is bubbling up, making everything black. Perhaps I should just cancel my appointment and let the sludge sink back down. Perhaps it is time to assess whether or not therapy has become more damaging then helpful. If only I could go more often then there wouldn't be the press on time. But as it sits now is it worth it? Perhaps not.
Carrie