Thingadailies 3: Abandonment


I slept through most of today, while the warm winter sunshine poured over me. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t even fraught with dark thoughts or terrible nightmares, just an inexorable bleakness that I could only feel as heavy fatigue.

As in my paintings, it seemed to turn toward me and then, as weariness overtook me, turned away, darker and more foreboding than when it looked towards me. Abandonment.

The work I have set before me in therapy is to discover how to let go of the shards that keep cutting me down. To see a younger me, comforted and safe. To move forward from the past. I do not know how to do this.

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