21st of Skivantul 2,198

Hello there. I was just about to go to bed. Originally, I had planned to be completely done with writing in this journal anymore as, after what I was told today, I don’t know if there’s really any point to it anymore. When I started writing in this journal, I had begun to feel better, thinking that I was somehow helping myself out just by writing down what was happening to me in my life. I went to the therapist today to tell her how I had been feeling and how everything in life had been going and I showed her my journal.

We both sat in silence for a good amount of time as she sat there and just read the journal. I didn’t really know what exactly I was supposed to do during this time, so I simply sat there in silence waiting for her to finish or to say something to me. I saw her face go through so many different emotions and thoughts as she read that I can’t even attempt to remember or comprehend them all or what they were in response to. Although, there was the one that I could easily recognize. Concern and Shock. She had clearly been reading the entry I had written after waking up from that crazy dream that I had. I felt a little worried myself and even a bit self-conscious about her reading that and what she would say, but she didn’t say anything, she just kept reading. And I continued to simply sit there and wait for her to say something, to say anything.

When she finally had finished reading through all the entries that I had written she just looked at me with such a sunken expression, she looked like a ghost who had just died all over again. I had no idea how to react to this, I just sat there hoping she would say something. I thought that if she just said something I would feel a lot better, but when she finally did say something it only made me feel worse. She asked me if everything that I wrote in the journal was true and I met her with a very confused look, why would I lie about any of that? She gave me a very distressed look once more. She told me that I was only getting worse and that she didn’t know if she could help me anymore. When she said that, I thought I could feel my heart sink through my chest all the way down to my stomach. She was giving up on me, just like my family...

Then she told me that, even though she could no longer help me, there was someone she knew who could probably help me out. She said that she had a friend, an illusionist who lived just outside the city. It wasn’t too far of a journey to make, so it would probably be worth my while. She explained how her friend would be able to go inside of my mind and search for the alternate personality by merging our minds and attempting to fight or banish him out of my mind, curing me of the problem. I didn’t really know whether or not I really wanted to have someone invading my mind, so I told her I would think about it and I scheduled another therapy session for next week.