I went to therapy today. I didn't quit even though every part of my soul is telling me not to go back. I've decided not to listen to myself. I'm going back tomorrow. I'm still so angry and hurt. I feel so betrayed, but quitting isn't the best for me either I guess. I used to like my therapist. Now I don't know how I feel about her. I shared some of my drawings with her today. I pencil sketch, but I can only draw when I'm upset so most of my drawings are pretty dark and depressing. Most people can't handle them. I've gotten in trouble for them many times. I showed them to my therapist hoping she could read them. I was hoping they would tell her what I cannot. Instead she talked about how great they are, how expressive. That wasn't exactly what I was hoping she would take from them. I was hoping she could see my heart in them. I was hoping they would give her a peek inside my brain.