On my recent entries, I had talked about how the shame of the early years of being molested by my dad were haunting me. But after some consultation with my therapist, those series of painful memories has eased up quite a bit. However, now memories of when my dad would molest me on a daily basis at age 15 are starting to get to me more. Though whereas the earlier memories bothered me from the shame I felt for willingly partaking in it, these later ones are getting to me just because it was the darkest time of my life.

I kind of want to write about them to vent, but I actually have my reserves about going into graphic detail about everything my dad did to me when I was 15. Some of the things I just shouldn’t disclose here. I know the graphic details don’t really matter anyway, but again, it would just be a way of me opening up. But I do have therapy today, so maybe I’ll just talk with my therapist about it. There are some things about that time at age 15 I still haven’t even told her yet…

Maybe afterward, I’ll have found a middle ground to vent these memories without getting too graphic but also telling the full scope of what happened so it’s still therapeutic for me.