On Forgiving Yourself It felt like she had switched bodies and was living another person’s life. At 10:32 on a cold Monday morning, Christie was sitting in a small mental health centre. It was her second counselling session.More Like This
The mental health centre was, bizarrely, located next to the train station. When walking to the building, Christie had noticed the abandoned canned drinks that littered the pavement. It was hard to tell what colour the paving slabs were originally. Covered in a myriad of coloured chewing and bubble gum, the paving slabs were then lined with cigarette buds.
Reluctantly, Christie brought herself to the present.
“The experience must have been traumatic for you,” said James, her counsellor.
“I guess.” She said, “I don’t like to think about it that much.”
“Why is that?”
“Because it makes me sad.
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