This week, I returned to counselling after avoiding it over the holidays. “I don’t need these sessions,” I told myself, on my way to the appointment. “I am fine. I am coping. I have returned to work.”
Then the counsellor made the mistake of asking me how things had been, for me, and the floodgates opened. I haven’t shared the depths of my sadness with someone, at length, for a long time. For the first time in months, I was able to look another human in the eye, and have her be a witness to my pain, to help me hold it. I am so tired of holding it all, on my own.
So I smile and say I’m well, considering the circumstances–and walk on, before they do.
I will not rush ahead toward the light.