I can’t bear the thought of home.
And I can’t bear the thought of being lost in strange surroundings either.
I feel like my center of consciousness has relocated to the older, child region of my psyche. I’m little and I’m running through my yard and my house but there’s something wrong, no one’s there, everyone’s gone.
I don’t trust my therapist. I don’t trust anyone. I don’t want to be with anyone. I don’t want to be alone with this. The point is, it doesn’t matter either way: no one can touch me, and this thing is in my head.
I want to scream and cry and tear things apart. I want to be torn apart.
Modern religionpsychology is a dry husk. It doesn’t have what I need. I don’t need to meditate or pray or journal. I need to go into the Night Land and feel the demons rip my flesh and be devoured by the dragon. I need to walk into the earth and face the Shadow.