I have an appointment with my therapist in two days with my girlfriend. This will be the first time a significant other will be with me in a therapy session. I’m pretty excited about it. It’s important to me that she is included in my progress and recovery.
Two nights ago I was curled in my sheets, fantasizing over opiates, staring at an empty beer bottle by my dresser. Yesterday, I was distracted, though content. Today, I feel better. I think my mom threw me for a loop in which I spiraled momentarily.
Rogue has been padlocked up for days now, under the secure arrest of Goldie and her firearms. Sometimes, I can hear Rogue’s voice reverberate in some hollow space in my head. She’s restless.
I know I should probably disclose this to my therapist but fuck, it’s so uncomfortable. It’s SO uncomfortable. I don’t know how to even discuss it, where to begin, what to say…what if she comes out? I don’t know how to control her. At least I have Goldie as protection.
I feel as if I am constantly chasing my memory. Even with simple things and routines. Granted, this has only happened a handful of times this week, but a sentence will come out of my mouth that I had absolutely no control over. At all. I even had to stop and really think about what the hell had just happened.
My seconds are over-lapping. Tunnel-vision, blurred vision.