Then I wrote something else: COUNSELING APPOINTMENT.

The workers’ organization had helped me locate a low-cost therapist.

I had been putting it off, telling myself the money was better spent on groceries.

But ever since the threat arrived, I jumped when a car slowed outside and dreamed of men standing in my kitchen.

In the first session, I kept explaining that other people had experienced worse things.

“You don’t have to win a contest of suffering before you deserve support,” the therapist said.