I had my first counseling session on Tuesday. It was pretty awful. I thawed out 47 years of suppressed weird misery. After a few minutes I had to stop looking at the counsellor because she was out of her depth. I don’t think she’d heard anything quite like it. And if I started to moderate my story to what her body language was saying I’d never get it out. The poor woman her hands were shaking as she took my money. And there I was. On the street with several tonnes of emotional permafrost melted and I had to get bus home and get more drunken abuse. But it did cure my tics for about 36hours. They then came back with gusto when I had my clandestine meeting with a domestic abuse prevention chap. I may get some assistance getting me the hell out of here. Got a new tic. I got to the location of the meeting earlier than I anticipated so I walked around the supermarket because it was the only thing open. There were these Batman toys on display. As I left the building I let out a yelp of " yay Batman!" I wish I could do it again. My partner is drunk downstairs and has spent much of the day texting me demanding my door key. I hate going home. I spend much of my time at work stressing about going home. Now have a weekend and everyone is telling me to have a good one. I will get through this but I really need a run of good luck and happiness because there hasn’t been much for a very long time. Sadly I don’t think the universe operates on a balanced tally system. I’m doing another couple of sessions before Christmas and after Christmas is when I blow the whistle on 16 years of mostly misery. God only knows how that will turn out. Not feeling very festive. I changed my Twitter name to Umjinglwings which is about as Christmassy as I can cope with at the moment.