Still here. 


…still no update from T.

Saw R on Thursday to fill in for T. Very lucky that I have people willing and able to do that. People who know how crappy this is. 

R was helpful in reminding me that this will pass and helping me focus enough to make a plan. I could feel an almighty panic bubbling and I started to cry and hyperventilate but her calm voice kept things steady. 

The plan is that I have an option to speak to R or see my (fantastic, understanding GP) next week if I don’t hear from T. I then have my scheduled R session the week after. If we still haven’t heard from T by then, then R will help me to write a tactful email asking for a progress update. The plan is succeeding in making me feel less like killing myself. 

I still feel like a barely contained explosion. I’m a ball of emotions. 

Sad. Poor T. I love her and I don’t want her to be hurting. 

Angry. She’s dropped me to look after her kid. Puts me in my place. I’m not her priority right now. Maybe I never am. 

Jealous. I hate her children and I can’t help it. They get her unconditionally. I get her when she’s not preoccupied with them.

Awkward. What the hell am I going to say to her? Do I take flowers? A card? Do I ask how she is? How am I meant to just start talking about my drama when she’s just experienced a loss? 

Embarrassed. What a big drama over ‘just a therapist’. I can’t tell people at work or even some friends because… well, what a pathetic thing to be so distressed by. She feels like a parent but she isn’t. I’m embarrassed that I feel so much more for her than her job title suggests. 

Worried. My wedding is coming ever closer. She promised to be contactable by phone on the day. But that was before this. What if she isn’t back working by then? Am I going to be without her? 

Frustrated. Her email was very vague and it’s put me in a sort of purgatory. “I’ll be back as soon as I can” is immensely vague. I know after a bereavement it is almost impossible to know time frames etc… but she hasn’t updated me and I am being battered by the waves of uncertainty. 

Selfish. All I want is her… to myself, all the time. Whenever I need her. I don’t want her son to need her. I don’t want her to be dealing with things so difficult she can’t still be mine. I feel immensely selfish for still wanting her even when I know she’s grieving. 

Guilty. I’d texted her every day last week. Every day. Emails too. My attachment insecurities were already high and I needed her intensely. Then this happened and I feel guilty for what I take from her. I feel guilty that I’m still selfishly thinking about myself when I should be caring totally for her. I feel guilty for being jealous of her son. I feel absolutely weighed down with guilt. 

Lost. Little doesn’t know what to do with herself. She’s gone from texting every day to not even knowing if T is in the country. She knows she can’t contact her in any way… but without a countdown to when she can, she’s totally lost. 

In conversations with both R and GP this week, we ultimately reached an acceptance that all I can do is sit and wait. So. I sit, and wait, and try not to do too much damage to myself emotionally or physically in the meantime. 

This sucks. X


5 responses »

  1. ugh, sitting and waiting… that’s the worst solution ever, and also the right one. I totally understand everything you’re thinking and feeling. I’m sorry this is happening. I hope she gets in touch soon and gives some sort of timeline for when she’ll be back.

  2. Oh… ouch. I hear so much pain in your words and I feel for you, truly, as much as a stranger can.
    You did a remarkable job of naming and explaining the emotions you are feeling. If it’s okay, I’d like to share a story of mine – you may see how it aligns, a little. When I was seven years old – a tiny bit older than your Little, but not much – my mom’s brother died. I didn’t know him and didn’t feel his loss for myself, he hadn’t been part of my life. The day we got the news, my mom was a wreck. While Dad held her and let her cry, I sat on the couch and cried tears of frustration and anger – why were they ignoring me? why was Dad crying too? how dare they tell me to stay over here on this couch while they’re clearly discussing something important?
    We had to go notify my grandparents after – my comment to my parents was, I’m so curious to see how they react!
    I was horrible. I reacted selfishly and I was completely unhelpful to my mom who was going through the hardest thing she had ever experienced…
    Keep in mind that Little is incapable of caring for others at her age. She can’t sympathize with T – all she can feel is her own loss. She’s allowed to be selfish and frustrated and worried and all those things. And then you, the adult part who feels for T and wants to help but can’t – you feel guilt for all the things Little feels.
    I can’t tell you how to get through this time – that’s what your professionals are for – but I can tell you that Little is reacting normally for a child, and you need to hold her and let her feel those things.
    Love and hugs to you – so much love. Be gentle with your precious self. ❤

  3. Some find it helpful to imagine they are beyond the crisis looking back on it. Some benefit from reminding themselves of the challenges they have survived in the past. Some reframe the crisis into an opportunity. Hang in there.

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