Spilt Milk - Julia
Looks like the 14.17’s late again. Typical. I’ll be sweating cobs by the time I get there. Quite frankly, I don’t know why I’m bothering. But I promised Bill I would, and a promise is a promise. I hope her room isn’t too hot again. That fake leather makes me sweat. Mind you, I was feeling hot because of all the questions. I mean, it was a long time ago now, and like I say, it doesn’t do to dwell on the past.
This week, she wants to talk about the rows. The bruises are yellowing now, and in any case he doesn’t approve of short sleeves, so they’re covered up most of the time. Quite frankly, I was more upset about the china, but he didn’t speak for two days.
Well, that was unexpected! One minute we were talking about the weather and next I knew she was asking about the bloody funeral! Anyway, I told her straight – I didn’t cry then, and I’m not about to now. My mother used to say, “There’s no use crying over spilt milk.” She asked about the grief. “Oh yes,” I said, “living with Bill gives me plenty of grief!” She says it’s quite common to be funny when you’re getting defensive about something. I do that a lot apparently.
Train’s on time today – that’ll be a first! Wonder what she’ll want me to talk about this week. Hope to goodness we can stop harping on about the past. I mean Bill’s asked me to see her cos he’s worried about how I am now, not how I was then. I said to Brenda “You’d be angry if your Frank did half the things my Bill did!”. All that whistling, day in day out. What’s he got to be so bloody cheerful about? With his daughter’s death on his conscience?
Last session today – thank heavens. Apparently last week was a bit of a breakthrough although I got a bit steamed up in her office. Ended up shouting that of course it was his fault! He should’ve been watching her! I’ve never said that before. Hope she didn’t write it down… She asked if that’s why I’m so angry all the time. I said I hadn’t the foggiest, that she’s the one with the diploma.
Today she wanted me to talk about our Dawn. I didn’t want to, but she said I was ready. So, I did. Until I couldn’t anymore because I had a lump the size of one of Brenda’s rock cakes in my throat, and then the tears came. I didn’t know I had so much water in me! But I feel calmer now, and I’ve got the strangest feeling - like I might want to talk to Bill about our Dawn. He’ll probably think I’ve gone mad. But then maybe that’ll give me an excuse to go back and see my nice lady shrink…