It's unrealistic to expect myself to go from "I loathe myself beyond words" to "I love and value me 'cuz I'm worth it *hair swish*" overnight. I can take jazzy little lizard steps toward compassion at my own pace.

Why would I want to take baby steps? Babies are shit at walking - think about it. To move forward I'll be taking jazzy little lizard steps.

...this was as if an actual steamroller driven by a crazy grinning idiot had trundled through the door and flattened my entire life into a sad pancake of nothingness.

It wasn't that I stopped caring about life, but that I've stopped being able to care.

I'm going to lie down. Please wake me up in a couple of don't.

A misconception that really pisses me off is that therapy is a hippy-dippy cop out for those who are too weak to deal with their problems. [...] It takes enormous amounts of mental effort to arrive at a place where you can ask for help, and even more to believe your problems are valid and warrant being taken seriously by a third party.

Because the silence is exhausting and isolating in a way it needn't be.

My brain, having been suspended in a state of hyper-vigilance for such a long time, just packed in and said 'No more, your job now is to lie on the sofa incredibly still and just work on evaporating, you useless towel'. And so I did.