Incest and the awful silence

Risking controversy, I’m going to be brutally honest and admit that I often wish I’d been abused by a celebrity. Or a teacher. Or at least a stranger. I’m not belittling anyone else’s experience. Really I’m not. It’s horrific to be sexually abused by anyone. Full stop. It isn’t easier or harder because you do…

The therapeutic relationship is surely the mother of all headf**ks

My therapist thinks we have two relationships; one therapeutic and one personal. I am finding this rather confusing. Unless you’re so dissociative you completely split into different people, surely it isn’t possible to have multiple relationships with the same person? The subject of our relationship has come up again after a disaster of a Skype…

Yet another therapy crisis

For the most part, therapy has been different recently – in a good way. Before I moved onto my boat, I wrote about how scared I was that therapy wouldn’t feel the same. I was scared that the literal distance would put more emotional distance between J and I. It was distressing to think of…

Family, Facebook and failed sobriety

I’ve been rubbish at finding the time and headspace to blog since we moved onto our boat. So much time is taken up with all the daily jobs that keep everything running. Either that, or we are dealing with a crisis or power failure. Or we don’t have any internet signal. This week, I really…

Escape fantasy

The fantasy of escape takes up a lot of space in my imagination. This borderline obsession has resided in me for at least three years. I’ve made non-committal efforts to dislodge it, and had short-lived success here and there. Those little pushes aren’t significant though, because in truth, I know it will always be a…