I did have a therapist, for a while. But soon, every session became the same, but worded differently, and then even that stopped happening. She'd hit a dead end with me, and we both knew it. I never went back. I don't want to go to a therapist, unless it's covered by OHIP. 200 bucks an hour for the same advice every time - while also asking me to increase my visits - is not worth it.

I know it's natural to assume that people don't deserve the pain they're in, but in fairness, I'm pretty sure this is just how life makes everything balance out; the fact that I'm lucky enough to not need to work, that I married the man of my dreams. Terry's balanced by his not caring about anything I do creatively, so that makes sense. The pain is the price for being able to not work, or be homeless, or lack medicine and food. It's never going away. I've given up on that, too. I have to get used to this.

I need to grow up, already.