If it be your will, Cohen
I almost bled to death and there was no one there.
Oh, I watched my father die for 11+ years. My mother has 21 stents in her heart and I have been there for almost every procedure, even when she's tried to protect me from being there, she's almost died more times than I care to count. So has my sister (although I can count four in the past year).
I've had friends and family die, all over the place, it seems. My next therapy task is a timeline of major life events - how many endings will it show? What else seems relevant?
Living matters - the fact that I have always chosen to live, to grow, to make choices in a way that honors living and loving. Maybe that should be a larger part of my narrative? And so and so, my timeline should also include places where I've harmed others.
That's a tall order, a necessary one. One I'm afraid to broach, if I'm being honest. Survivor or mercenary? Hell if I know. That's a can of worms worthy of consideration. - For another day.
Today, let's focus on the starting point. I almost died. I don't know why and the only answer boils down to "I'll never know". Perhaps it was a fluke of nature because women's issues are so mysterious and unknowable (bah humbug) or perhaps had a miscarriage. I'm not sure which answer is worse most days.
And you, my dear love, you helped me get here, to this place where I can start healing... I wish you knew how deep my love and trust in you runs. How could you? I can barely wrap my head around it. Does it frighten you, too?
I suspect it does. Just as I have had to find a way to accepting this on my own terms, I know you must also. As much as I hate it, that process can include anger and doubt and pulling away and shutting down and shutting out. You are as human as I. And somewhere in there, we have to find trust - trust in ourselves, trust in one another. I know my actions can be more consistent, that I might work on my anger and resentments. I am. We aren't the easiest folks, are we? Would I love you if you were?
Probably not.
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It is an interesting thing to have a therapist suggest I might have PTSD. Of course, I have for more years than not. I'm not sure anyone has ever really said so, talked about it so candidly with me. To be fair, I couldn't have been so candid. I find it refreshing.
This is a course I have considered for several months now. So far, all the pieces are aligning.... who knows how it all turns out. I feel hopeful, though. I am self-aware. I am reasonably emotionally intelligent. She said to me this week. "you have amazing resiliance." That might be the kindest thing anyone has ever said.
Not really, but a truth I doubt few appreciate the depth or cost - including myself.
Her recommended course of therapy is one tailor-made for me. We're going to chart my life timeline (with meta icons), then select 6-10 life events to explore by way of me telling the story and her writing the story. The next week, she's going to read it aloud to me (this scares me the most) so that I can hear that I've been seen (this sooothes me the most) and so that we can edit it for prosperity.
And I think it might just work. Even the simple acknowledgement of the trauma, of someone seeing it, helps. The attention to time and space helps also - we need to do this weekly. She absolutely respects my relationship with Scott. I think it will be good for both of us to have a time apart and come back stronger - pfft, what has Scott always said but that our relationship will often be a mirror of what's happening in my world.
I need time away.... I've known that for some months now, anemia not withstanding. Connections do exist beyond the moment. Of course they do.
I am learning to trust that of us, also. I hate it. I do. If we are to be healthy for one another, we have to make the choice to trust. And at the end of the day, everyday, I fall asleep with the shirt blue tucked close. I think you saw that in VA beach. What else could I say?