Last week was a really positive week in therapy.  We talked about how the university group are going to put a post out following me contacting them, and for the first time in my life I actually felt genuinely happy.  There were proper tears or happiness, which I didn't even know were a real thing.  And it totally amazes me that that happiness could come out of such tragedy.

This week, we ended up spending most of the session talking about my sister who is really low at the moment and I've no idea what to do for her.  She's just sinking deeper and deeper and pushing everyone away.  Her daughter's at her wits end too.

But then towards the end of the session, we started to talk about the rape, and about my feelings the it's not just the physical rapes that made it so horrendous, it's everything that went with it - the touching, the kissing, the licking, the poking, the being able to hear his every breath and the saliva in his mouth as he breathed and talked, the things he said, telling me to smile for him etc etc...  And I can see his face so so clearly in front of mine and can't escape it.

We didn't have much time to explore this as it was towards the end that we got to it.  So that was about it.  I don't have an appointment next week.