You can talk to me anytime.

I had a tearful chat with Natacha today. She recommended the psychiatrist that comes every month and a half, Jennique (?). She also suggested I talk to my mom about her childhood and how she grew up. That thought frightens me, why? She might start becoming human and less monster-like.

We discussed the concept of writing letters to our family members that we wouldn't mail. She threw hers away after keeping it for a long time. I want to write mine and burn it in a fire out in the wilderness around Wemindji. In fact, I have started writing a letter, to my brother. I'm finding that I feel like I am censoring myself. She said maybe I'm not ready to write it yet. I have to agree. But I hope to be before I leave here.