Good question, Snowy white
My therapist of 13+ years and I are taking a break. It is a healthy break. I'm going to try intensive therapy with someone who specializes in fertility issues. It is necessary so I can move from how I feel today (and have for some time) to a place where I can have a hysterectomy without further traumatizing myself.
And all I want to do tonight is to reach out, for someone to be here. I'm so scared. Nothing has been right for the past 15+ months. Logically, I know much of that has to do with my physical health and how it affects me emotionally.
But its all been so much, too much, everywhere, all at once. I am having trouble sorting through all the dots to see the puzzle. I'm hoping a new perspective will stimulate me into seeing things in a different, more positive light. If the sacrifice is missing a few sessions of the therapy that is so much a part of my routine, that should be okay. And to be fair, Scott went out of his way to establish expectations and needs. He suggested a firm date for beginning again with him. He offered an easy out if I need him between now and then.
That's more than fair. And I know he knew how hard it was for me to hear it. I appreciate that he set boundaries that honor both our needs. He was practical and kind and said nothing I didn't expect.
And yet, I find myself so angry. How dare yet another person let go so easily? Am I so easilu forgotten?
I feel that way. I suppose I always have. This comes shortly after a rift with my sister and her eldest. I wish I cared more, I truly do. And I don't. I'm so very tired of pushing my emotions aside to make space for others. That's the damned truth. And I am tired of them dmeonizing me for being human.
I am not okay. I keep telling people I am not okay. I've been screaming it for a long time. And in the end, I feel unseen, too much and a burden. I take solace in the idea I have a plan for how to end it all, if it gets to be too much.
And I hate everyone and everything tonight. How did I almost die and no one was there? No one has been here?
Maybe that's the root of my issues... I bled and bled and bled and there was no one there. Ok, fair, my kid wanted to be there and I wouldn't let him. But everytime I try to let people in, they run away and isn't it my job to not cause him worry? I call bullshit because I would far prefer being there for my mom than not being there. I don't care how much it hurts.
I alost died and probably lost a child. Why does no one want to comfort me? Why don't you? It happened to you, too.
And if it didn't, why would I spend energy on you? Ever. I am so angry.
I know, I damned well know, my current state is because ruly legitimate, hoorifying things happened and folks have pretended, again, as if they didn't. Or maybe they know but don't have the 'bandwidth' to engage emotionally. And I know, all of this triggers feelings I have spent a lifetime overcoming ... and no wonder I am a mess.
I fucking hate you. Not really, we all know I love you in profound ways that will last beyond this. I know it. I think you know it. I think we both have no idea what to make of it. And I also know ...
I fucking almost bled to death. You weren't there. You haven't been here. And I am so angry. Do I mean so little? It isn't only that you weren't there... no one was. The folks I trusted most to be there...weren't. I know it isn't only you, just that the absence of you hurts most.
And yet, I must trod through this gaunlet so that I can keep the door open for hope and love. Faith is beyond me, mostly. How do I continue to go on when I have been shown, again...again...again... how very little I matter?
Angry me wants to go into the blue. Not out of a desire to hurt anyone - not really. I feel like a burden and a coward who doesn't want to face a loss like this....again....again...again. The most precious parts of me - my blood, my life, my love - mean nothing.