I was supposed to have a counselling session today. I'm not the biggest fan of going down to the doctors surgery, being shut in a room for an hour with a lady that just says 'mmm' after everything I say. I always come out a crying wreck with big red eyes and a puffy face and an even heavier heart.
So today I sacked it off. That means I can't have anymore sessions now, but I honestly don't think I could care less. Maybe in a week or so I'll be regretting my rash decision, but for the time being it's ok.
Instead of going into the dingy doctors surgery, I drove a little further down the road, to the graveyard. It was almost like I wasn't driving, I just sort of ended up there.
Going to visit my brothers grave is not something that I enjoy, or like, in anyway shape or form. I've not been for a few months in fact. But yesterday I felt a strange pull to it. Like a weird sort of gravity pulling me towards it.
So I got out of my car and walked down, through the graveyard to see my brother.
It helped so much more talking to him than talking to my counsellor.
I got a little teary, but no where near as much as I do when I have my sessions. They make me physically sick.
From now on I'm going to visit Timmy more. The graveyard looks so pretty at the moment, he's resting in such a beautiful place. It's quiet, and woody, and there's always little birds tweeting away in the trees.
He never liked being stuck inside anyway, and neither do I.
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