We spent today's session going into detail regarding the rest area child prostitution in 1973-1976. This issue only surfaced last month so it is pretty raw and unsettling.
1st time mentioning it aloud was last therapy session.
Today, afterward, I'm overwhelmed with exhaustion and a cloud of repressive sadness that feels like it goes all the way to the bone.
I've started a separate blog, The Child Prostituted Speaks, that focuses specifically on all whore events that we endured.
It's awful. Hideous.
Afraid to talk to therapist for fear she would think less of us for being whores.
I'm exhausted. Could sleep for days. Dredging up. Speaking aloud breathes life back into those horrid memories that have been frozen in time all these decades.
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