I feel happy.
Wow.
Maybe it's partly connected to the fact that I am not going down to see my mother tomorrow - my sister is staying with her for the weekend. The good news - I must say unexpected - is that she is no longer sounding agressive and embittered about her carer. In fact she now seems to admire Maria's skills and intelligence. She has never met anyone like her in her life before.
The more fundamental reason I feel happy is that, I told my therapist today a very personal and difficult story about my involvement in a suicide. In fact, I did blog about it here once, but in a deliberately obscure and convoluted way.... Frankly it is something it's best to tell a therapist I trusted or a very close friend.
Anyway, my therapist's reaction was brilliant, different, far more sympathetic and shred than anyone else I have told (in the 40 years since it happened). Afterwards, she gave me some relaxation exercises which were far more healing than words.
In the last few weeks, I have been feeling we had got stuck, there was not much point to it, and a lot of expense. But sometimes sticking points are signs that I am holding back, and there is a need to go on.
