Jul 01, 2010 14:36
Called my therapist, made an appointment for this morning, and was told that I was holding up remarkably well, considering, and that she'd be worried about me if I weren't crying over Capt. Phil Harris and rehashing my grief over my mother.
So now I know it's good that I feel bad, and I have permission to stop beating myself up.
Huh.
life,
irony