Therapy is the bane of my existence. I am no good at it. I quit things I suck at so the fact that I've stuck it out for over a year (gah! Why am I not better yet?!) I don't trust, I can't open up, I lie, omit, smile and nod. And here's the thing I'm not sure I'll ever be able to spill my guts. I don't like talking about my problems with people in my day to day life. I don't want to worry anyone. My therapist continues to amaze me. He totally read me like a book today and it was all I could do to not burst out into tears in his office. He tells me "it's okay if you cry" No. It's not. I don't deserve to cry. I've done so many selfish, shitty things since my daughter was born I don't even know who I am anymore. I don't have friends, I don't have hobbies, my marriage is barely holding together. And all I can think is this was all my fault. I was the one who wanted a baby and I was the one who couldn't hack it.