The devil spoke this week. Not directly to me but to the wider online world. I'm trying to interpret what she said. Was she whispering more deceit to elicit compassion or expressing the painful truth that has beset my mind since late January?
All but one person in my life have don't you dare respond. The one different voice, that of a therapist, is urging me to connect. Who do I trust?
The devil took up most of my therapy session this week. No advice was given, never expect that from a psychodynamic therapist, but he did give some different angles. The most striking was that unlike what happened in the past this time someone reached out to me not the other way round. Before the door has been slammed in my face repeatedly.
It is hard to forgive betrayal, vitriolic bile and attacks that confirm my very low opinion of me. But do I need to forgive? Or am I deluding my self that the devil's message relates to me?
On Tuesday I will speak to someone who will advise. Then I will decide.
Back to today I'm listening to Handel's Serse and cooking roast lamb. It has been a fairly lonely weekend. People doing their own thing. Tomorrow is a public holiday, what do I do with myself? Always a conundrum.
Must phone dad and Miriam later. Back now to my opera and my book.
I Heard a Voice.
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