Just finished my second therapy session not half an hour after writing this post. I didn't get to piece together any fragmented memories as I had hoped. I guess that will come later. Instead, my therapist wanted to hear me tell the rest of my story being molested by my dad for 20 years since I didn't really get to finish the last time. Fair enough. I shouldn't rush this. We talked a lot about how he made a daily thing of it when I was 15. I recounted a lot of details that were tough to say aloud, as expected. My therapist was able to provide some decent insight as well. I learned that that period when I was 15 really was the roughest for me. Of course it was, I was enduring it every single day, often multiple times a day! I guess I just never sat down and thought of it that way. I know we're not done talking about that time and it's probably good that we continue next time. Anyway, that's how today's therapy session went. I'll be going back next Monday. She's thinking of having my days be Mondays and Thursdays, so that'll probably be my schedule for doing these little reports of mine too. It's hard. It really is. But who said it was going to be easy, right? As difficult as it is, I'm still glad I'm doing it.