Monday, January 23, 2006


I fucked up this weekend. Severely fucked up.

I broke a promise. A contract. I broke my word... going back to my belief that we're only as good as our word... well...

I couldn't handle what was happening. I NEEDED it to go away.

I honestly tried to put a "container" around it until the next session with my counsellor but it wasn't working.

Sharing the flashback or memory or whatever the hell these images are was too much for me. Sharing in the moment... making it real. Having to acknowledge that it happened, having to share the ineffable is like reliving the trauma over again.

Regardless, there is no excuse for my actions.

I feel incredibly guilty and shameful and have this undying urge to run away and hide rather than face the broken promise.

I don't know what to expect when I tell my counsellor I broke the contract. Will there be disappointment? Will there be a break of trust?

Trust. Such a simple word for such a strong and fragile feeling.

There's nothing I can do but apologize for my mistakes and work harder to ensure there isn't a repeat.


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