Posted by Dinah on January 12, 2007, at 17:19:23
It's that time of year again, and the gulls have come to pick apart whatever flesh is left on my desiccated bones. I just can't do it again. After twentyfive years, I just can't do it again.
And my therapist's answer is to work harder, and to find my satisfaction and joy elsewhere in my life.
I just may have to rid myself of him and somehow save myself.
poster:Dinah
thread:721761
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/psycho/20070103/msgs/721761.html