What the fuck? What I was feeling? I didn’t know what the fuck I was feeling at that one little moment. He seemed bummed, so I tried to say something nice. Which was a weird thing to do in a session about my PTSD, but, whatever. I sat on it for a while. “I think I was trying to reassure you and myself at the same time because communicating well is a thing I’ve been thinking about? And then I think I said it in that tone because I was, like…tired?”
