I remember sitting in that shrink’s office 4 years ago. Looking at the ceiling and the walls. Holding a box of tissues between my hands. I had been crying for weeks. Not eating and crying.

He had asked me what I wanted to talk about. And all I could think was, ‘Where do I start?’

Do I talk about the accident? Or do I go back further? Do I talk about…. everything?

I went into necessary amounts of detail because I’ve been trained that everyone is on a need to know bases. And at the end of that session, I was handed a journal. The idea of the journal was to write everything I was feeling, thinking, and seeing down. So that it wouldn’t dwell in me. That by putting all that somewhere, I’d be ok.

The journal turned into this blog. And it took me a year after seeing that shrink to really start to write things down about my feelings towards the accident, the boy, and…. well, everything! Because he put me through hell. All that had to go somewhere.

I think about that journal and I think about how that was suppose to help me. In a way, coming here and airing out the memories and what I’m feeling now… it does help. It doesn’t entirely fix me. But it helps.

What happened… everything that happened… I can’t just get over that. It’s not something you simply get over.

But I learn to live with it every day.

And I try not to get frightened of every guy that seems interesting enough to get to know.

I do get frightened. But I TRY not to.