Miss You Nights (therapy update)


Rabbit and I are cuddled up in my childhood bed, whilst I write this post. We feel close to T, through rabbit. She held him like a baby throughout our therapy session last week, and I can feel her love and care through him now.

It is hard to remember that therapy is a pleasure I’m bloody paying for!! It is so excruciatingly painful right now; a beautiful torture. Torture because attachment pain rips at my insides, grief from before consumes me, feeling of rejection and abandonment crush me. Beautiful because I am feeling, I am growing, healing even. Beautiful because of the most messy, emotional, heart-achingly honest relationship between T and I.

I think I am two therapy sessions behind on the updates. After last week (brief recap: too much contact, set boundaries last week, spent all week pushing boundaries, freaked at rejection…) I really had no words for T in that session. I was so angry at her and I hated that she had ignored me. We spoke on Friday and on Monday, but it wasn’t enough to contain all of the emotions and so I felt horribly neglected and very, very angry. Very angry. Grr. Thankfully, T poked and prodded at the sore bits until I gave way to a flood of my real emotions; she held rabbit like a baby whilst I told her I hated her for making me feel this way and as I let all the angry spill out, it felt strange and amazing that she wasn’t leaving. I was finding a lot of what she was saying difficult to hear – at one point I put my hands over my ears to block out her sounds. I was digging into my wrist with my nails and she stopped me, so gently it nearly made me cry. Her fingertips on mine, trying to stop the pain making dents in my skin.

Eventually, the angry stopped and the sadness kicked in. She held me whilst my exhausted soul fell into her, talking into my ear promises that she will always support me and that she doesn’t forget about me.

This week was better, and worse. We only spoke at the allocated times, and this felt ok. But I am somewhere flitting between numb, and torrential downpours of sadness and grief and loneliness. For the majority of our session, I was numb to her. What she was saying, I couldn’t connect with – I wasn’t interested in her offers or her platitudes. At one point she offered a few times to sit next to me, but I declined – I wanted to keep her at arms length. I’m not sure whether I was trying to punish myself or herself, but when she stated, “you’re trying to keep me away”, I knew she was right.

Eventually, my numbness turned to sadness and the tears just would not stop. We were over time, but I was completely unable to stop the waterworks. We talked about suicide, and how it was somewhere just behind my every waking thought right now. I sobbed at the loneliness and lack of energy I feel throughout my life; I sniffled my way through telling her how I was sad because I would be lonely when she went away. The tears just would not stop, and I was terrified.

Eventually I sat up and put my shoes on (I never have shoes on for therapy!), but I was still gulping air. She asked if I wanted a hug, which I did, and she wrapped both arms around me whilst I sobbed huge, hot tears onto her jumper and my hair. When I left, the tears were still falling and they didn’t stop until I had spoken with the Samaritans, my best friend AND my parents. Loneliness underpinned it all. I am being rotted by loneliness.

I sent her a text when I finally got home; I knew she told me she wouldn’t reply to texts, but I desperately hoped she would.

“It would be overwhelmingly helpful to know you want me alive”, I wrote.

“I definitely want you alive. Warmest wishes.” She wrote.

Despite every boundaried conversation, she is still human.

Then I slept, loving her and soothing me and acknowledging the agonies my heart must go through every time it loves and loses.

We’re back on track now. But as I lie in bed listening to the rain, the agony of my attachment to my heart is plain. Poor Rabbit, his ears are so tear stained.



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