I started seeing a counselor, which is more gentle term for therapist, or shrink. I have some unresolved issues, apparently. I think maybe the more journaling I was doing made me realize it would be good to actually talk to someone. This blog is great, but it can't set me right.
You can't work in the sex industry for many years without having an incident or two. I'll spare you the details, but I won't spare my shrink, when I get to that. We haven't gotten there yet. Mainly I've just talked about my feelings for Cole, difficulties of raising my daughter alone, and my fear about my upcoming court date with her father.
I've been writing more, starting from the beginning, and it's cathartic. We'll see where it goes. I'm not sure what I fear more: being honest with myself or my new counselor.