Another day rolls on. The day after group is going to be a little dodgy.

Of course it was hard. Going through exposure therapy is supposed to be hard. It’s gotta be that way. Picking at old scars will do it. It was something that I thought I was passed.

I guess not.

The homework I am looking forward to less. Writing out things, I’m comfortable with that. I can easily approach anything through writing. It’s comfortable. It’s familiar.

But I need to read it… That bothers me. I can’t seperate myself from it. I had to write it in first person. So, when I re-read it I have the personal, visceral experience. I need to. If I don’t I will be doing what I’ve been doing.

Did I do it today?

No. I didn’t.

I have to force myself to read my story. I have to face this head on.

No more stalling… it’s go time.

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