Months. Far too many months. Fortunately, I did not make any promises about posting regularly since they would have been broken. Into tiny slivers.

I now know why I wasn’t writing – to preserve what little mental stability I had left. Writing this blog is intense because in trying to live up to my commitment of sharing the good, the bad and the ugly, I not only have to unearth buried emotions, but I then must turn over rocks to study what’s beneath. I don’t mind physical worms and slugs. The emotional ones, on the other hand, aren’t fun. Barely keeping it together, examining the unpleasant wasn’t a wise move.

I’m better now. Not great, not fixed and definitely not at my best. Just better.

I did learn one very valuable lesson. A bad therapist can make it so much worse. That was last summer and early fall. A good therapist, in contrast, helps, not in any miraculous way, but subtly. I found the good therapist in December.

Over the past few months, I did do some writing. For now, I’m going to post something new each week and pull out something old as well.