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Welcome 2026.

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Actually 2026 has arrived with a sense of dread. But that's another story! Every year I write a letter to myself as the year ends. And so, this morning I got to read last year's letter to me now. I sat down with good coffee and cake, and started to read. Clearly this time last year I was stuck in the pain 'therapy' brought me - and I was on my way to making the complaint official, despite all my misgivings about the complaint process. Because I felt so uneasy about making an official complaint, and so that the therapist could understand what had occurred to make therapy so profoundly damaging I sent him the recordings of the sessions with my annotated transcripts . And because he didn't reply, or offer any acknowledgement of a problem I felt that there was simply no other option left except to send him my victim statement . I didn't want to see myself as a victim - but there wasn't any other way now to view it. Only by deeply acknowledging what had happened ...
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Running away...

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Clearly I've wanted to ( run away ) I guess that I'm at the tail end of the storm. Everything I've wanted to run from, and still want to run away from is seeped in aversion - but I don't run.  Period.  Never have, never will. This looks like an effect of threat, that stage where the victim goes into total dissociated shut down, then suddenly gets up and runs! The cat is bored and the mouse that looked dead suddenly dives for safety! But no, I'm not downloading  From coach to 5 K   What I'm in feels a lot like burn-out , when I used to work in the NHS. It is a blank, horrid state, no one told us about it, there was nothing to be done about it. The symptom was - other than simply feeling either switched off and blank, or needing to run - was that I used to imagine walking into the sea, just letting everything go over my head and let myself drown in it. The music of those times was Strange Day ... I was working at the Accident hospital  nothing stressful there! Any...
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Behind the mirror.

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A Bell Sings In Your Head by The Shining Tongues Almost the Solstice . Imagine the force of the sun, like a bow wave of life drawn deeper into the earth. The sun, so weak, now unable to rise high enough to give us a day. Yet this descent rejuvenates the earth and in return some force from the earth empowers the sun. Imbolc is the first real sign in the quality of light that darkness is receding - a cold and righteous sea, hissing like a nest of snakes, pulled by the moon to the outer shore. Soon the light will return and the days frosted in silver gain a cold clarity.  But for now, there is a mixing, a cross-pollinating, it is the solstice. Winter Solstice memories include knowing without a shadow of a doubt that my husband had begun 'sleeping' with her. So called 'flashbulb' memories; his body language, the taste of treachery. The feeling as of a blade entering my heart, and, how each time I asked for truth I was lied to.  Still bleeding psychically from this wound, ...
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