From Wreckage To Recovery

Using therapeutic journaling to face trauma

Dear Friend

How was your weekend? Are you ready for the week ahead? I think I am. I’m feeling all the autumn feels this morning, which is perfect to get me in the mood to writing the first few hundred words of my new book. First draft coming up, it might take me a few months - eek!

So here goes…

The car was reversing, at speed, he was on the car bonnet, banging his hands, both fists now slamming hard against the black, glossy, rain stained bonnet of my Golf GTR. What was he doing? Was he trying to stop the car? How ridiculous, I thought. At one point, I think he was literally straddled across the front of the car. It all happened so quickly. The car kept reversing, now taking a sharp right, the beast of my engine screeching, when I realised the bonnet was free of the man. No time to check where he was. I needed to flee. The night blanket was blocking my view, I wasn’t sure where the road started or if the road had ended. Was I driving the car, or was the car driving me?