So I saw my psychologist Thursday morning. Thursday afternoon I went to see an art therapist who is based near to my new house for an introductory chat. Which very nearly didn’t happen because I got hopelessly lost trying to walk there and was late and anxious and in a bit of a state and nearly gave up and turned round and went home. Especially when I eventually found it but didn’t know if it was the right place and was stood outside this strange door in the dusk and there was no answer and I had to phone her and try to explain –

“I’ll come and get you” she said
“It’s all right” she said
“And breathe” she said

She made me tea and took me into the studio, which was a lovely bright space full of intriguing things which parts of me itched to explore. And we had a conversation.

And lots of thoughts become no-thoughts, memories become no-memories, ¬†become swallowed up in nothingness, and I am left blank-faced, blank-minded on the sofa, unsure of how to continue. Perhaps I’ll just leave it there for now –

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