Boundaries, Salt and Rules of Play.


When I saw R last week, we discussed how I have a really long list of things to talk to T about and work on in therapy. The list felt overwhelming and I wasn’t really sure where to start. In the end I just picked one. 

Boundaries vs. Humanness. 

I often feel like people are on a sliding scale, one long line with ‘Boundaried’ at one end and ‘Human’ on the other. It often feels like everyone I love seems to slide up and down that scale depending on what I’ve done. If I’m good, then people slide towards human and if I’m bad, too much, too dangerous, too dirty, people slide towards boundaries. I hear and read all the time that boundaries are a good thing – if you Google ‘boundaries in relationships’ then it comes up with pages and pages and pages of how healthy boundaries are etc – but I just can’t understand how they can be good, because everyone who’s ever had any boundaries with me has used them to take big steps back away from me. It feels like boundaries are never about protecting me, but instead they’re about protecting the person behind the boundary wall. 

I hear everyone telling me they’re a good thing but I can’t understand how. I feel stupid for not understanding it but I don’t understand how anyone having boundaries can make them or the people they love and spend time with safe. I don’t understand it and I wish I did because it would stop making me feel like everyone was leaving me because I’m bad. 

T and I spent our session and our emails talking about this. There have been a couple of times recently where I’ve felt like her boundaries have been in direct contrast with how much I want her to care for me. I find impossibly hard to connect the person who cuddles and reads me stories and replies to panicked texts at bedtime, to the person who can let me leave her house totally hysterical and sobbing my heart out and not want to check in, the person who can hear me talk about suicide and not ask me to please not harm myself etc. 

It has helped, a little, to understand how T feels differently to me. T feels like she shows me love through her boundaries. She wrote in her email yesterday, 

“For me boundaries mean clarity and transparency so that you are clear what to expect eg you know when the session begins and when it ends. For me that means that there is a safety in that. Sometimes a client will choose to bring something up towards the end of a session knowing that it is the end of a session and there is only a limited time to look at it. They then have the choice to bring it to the next session. It feels really important to me to respect that and trust the person.”

She talked a lot in session about how she wants to be sure she is giving the best of herself. How, for example, she doesn’t want to reply to emails if she knows she is tired and she isn’t going to be able to give me what I need. How she wants to be really clear about her availability so that I am not unsure about time she has for me. I asked what boundaries she had with her children, she said the same as she has for me – she wants to give the best of herself and so wouldn’t reply if she knew she wasn’t in the right space. 

Her other example was with her grandson, when he wants more toy cars. He will scream and shout and tantrum but if she’s said no then she means no and it’s her way of showing she loves him. That if she gave in when he tantrumed then that wouldn’t make him feel safe. This doesn’t feel the same to me as where I’m coming from, this feels like a behaviour boundary as is part of helping someone to grow up into a normal human being. I definitely know that there are times with Sass/Little where a firm NO is what they actually need from T – it’s part of helping them grow and understand societal norms which they weren’t taught when I was younger. I guess the boundaries that hurt me more are when I feel like I’ve been emotionally “too much” and she has kept her boundaries (or, even worse, enforced new ones) in spite of that. 

I don’t feel like I have any boundaries with people at all. I show love by giving all of myself. I have behaviour boundaries, e.g. I will not tolerate somebody yelling at me, but I have no emotional boundaries. I show love by trying to be permanently available to those I love. I show love by trying to make sure that I give people what I can. I can’t always manage it – if I’m tired or overwhelmed it’s hard – but I hope that the people who I love and who love me know that if I can’t be what they need, it’s because I CAN’T and not because I won’t. That to me, is love. 

I also feel that when we, as a society, talk about love, we measure it’s intensity by it’s lack of boundaries. Think about the phrases we hear – I’d do anything for them. He’s my everything. I love them unconditionally. I’d take a bullet for them. I love the bones of them. – everything we say about love, both romantic and parental, comes from it’s crossing of boundaries and how uncontrollable it is. We don’t say well I love you but only when you fit within my boundaries. 

I asked A (GP) about this. T will accuse A of having no boundaries with me, but then I feel like A and I are very similar in our expression of how we care. A described them as “some arbitrary concept which puts a limit on the closeness of a relationship”…. which is the most perfect description I could get to how I feel about boundaries. 

I feel like perhaps A and I are “can’t” people, whereas T is a “won’t” person. If I let someone down, it’s because I couldn’t do what they needed. It wasn’t a choice – my choice would have been to be everything to everyone – it was a “can’t”. A is the same – I know that if for example he didn’t reply, or couldn’t meet up or whatever, it would be because he couldn’t, not because he wouldn’t. T is a “won’t” person. She will make a choice. And maybe T has got it right! I know that both A and I get battered by our desires to help others professionally, to be everything the person needs. T doesn’t seem to in the same way. Maybe she is right, maybe being a “won’t” person is healthier. But I know that I feel love much more easily from “can’t” people, and I cope much better with rejection if I feel it was because someone couldn’t, rather than because they wouldn’t. 

Understanding more about T’s perspective has helped me feel less unloved and rejected by her. Even if it’s not how I would want her to be with me, understanding it more has helped soothe the damage it causes when she chooses not to do what I am desperate for her to do. It has helped that she has talked to me about her feelings when we haven’t been angry and emotional. She wrote, I do care what happens to you and I feel sad when you are upset. I don’t feel that I show it more by checking in with you. I try to respect and value you in your process and trust that you are able to ask me if you need something.” Maybe moving forward from this is about remembering these conversations and adjusting how I behave, about remembering how she cares for me and adjusting my behaviour in consideration of that. It feels like understanding her more might be the key to moving forward with our relationship. 

She wrote, 

“I wonder whether you are seeking a demonstration that I care and if I don’t show a big demonstration then you are scared I don’t care. Do you know the story behind King Lear about a king who asked his three daughters to tell him how much they cared for him. The two eldest gave huge descriptions of how much they loved him and the youngest told him she loved him like salt. The king was very upset that there were no grand gestures from the youngest whom he loved a lot and did not like something so ordinary as salt. He was so angry and rejected by her that he banished the princess from the kingdom and then divided his kingdom in two between his two eldest daughters. She managed to get a job in the kitchens where he was living and managed to serve a meal totally without salt. When the King tasted it he realised how important salt was and then realised that his youngest daughter did care. What if I care for you like salt? In an ordinary way?”

Hearing this from her really helped. I hate the use of ‘ordinary’ but I can see how this relates to us and how we respond to each other. I also feel though that it isn’t right to be dismissive of the other two sisters. T would say that she feels A does this – the big gestures, the swooping in to save the day, the knight in shining armour thing – which is unfair to him. He is relentless in his care and it’s not just wrapped up in ‘saving the day’ stuff (though that is the stuff that makes T a bit resentful and jealous when I openly adore him for it) – he does the daily grind, the constant reminders, the everyday soothing with me. He isn’t a pantomime act, saving the day on stage then stripping the outfit off and walking away – he’s a constant, a heartbeat I breathe to and a relentless hand hold. I get angry with T when she talks of him as that fleeting saviour because I know he is so much more… But I appreciate the acknowledgement of the different ways of showing love. Open, giving, big gestures love is easier for me to see and hold and use to prove to myself that they care and won’t leave… but I understand a bit more now how her love is different, quieter and definitely more ‘boundaried’, but still very much there. We’ve got more work to do on this, but this helped. 

It did make me wonder whether one way of helping me cope more with relationships would be by having clearer definitions of the boundaries within them. Almost a list of the rules we play by. I say that I have no boundaries, and T would say that A doesn’t, but actually, we all do. All of my relationships do. 

I asked my husband earlier what boundaries he thought we had. He immediately said ‘none, of course’, but then when we talked about it, we do. Here were the few we thought of. 

  • We respect our wedding vows and work to keep these every day. 
  • We acknowledge each other’s need for space and time to be alone. 
  • We make any decisions that will effect us both as a team. 
  • We respect our sexual and physical boundaries. Anything we do is discussed first and agreed by both. Changes to consent are allowed and respected. 

I’m sure there are more, too. It helped me to see that these are boundaries but none of them put us on separate sides of a wall. They’re just rules we both play by. 

Then I thought about A. There are ‘boundaries’ there, too, rules we both play by. 

  • There is a boundary about contact – that I can get in touch any time, and he will do his best for me. That’s a boundary – it’s not got strict times and rules like T, but it’s our rule of play – he will do his best and I will respect that (and inevitably love him anyway). 
  • He does not touch me without my consent. Ever. He never assumes consent and understands that consent is fluid and changing – he still asks every time to look at my tonsils, even though he must have seen them thousands of times. He is immensely clear on his respect for me and my body in that way and I totally trust him because of it.  
  • I will tell him if/when he triggers me (even if I think it will hurt him).
  • I hope he will tell me if he’s not coping with me (even if he thinks it will hurt me). 
  • The specific details of my abuse history, the things I’ve told him that they did, are private and not to be shared without my consent. General overviews to other professionals (and I guess to personal relationships if he needs support) and in my notes are or course fine, but the specific details are private. 

I’m sure there are more for us, too, and I am sure he has others. I’d be interested to know.

Then T. We’re redefining our list at the moment, but I do think that having clarified boundaries will help me to understand our relationship more. I’m wary of writing a list until we’ve discussed it together in session but I think it will help. 

So I feel further forward now than I did last week. Seeing boundaries as less of a punishment and more as “rules we play by” seems to help me feel that people aren’t sliding up and down a scale of humanness but are actually human all along. Clarity of those rules of play and an understanding of T’s emotions and feelings behind them has helped – I definitely find her harder to understand that A because she is so different to me and he is much more similar in some ways. 

I haven’t wanted to kill myself now since Monday night. That part of my brain has been quiet for days… I feel like I’ve got ever so slightly more control back, a slightly tighter grip, less dramatic spinning in a marginally calmer whirlwind. Progress. 





This week, T and I have started our new strategy. One session a week, then two email responses. I can still email whenever I want, but the agreement is that T will only respond on the chosen days. If I’m in crisis then I can still text her to ask for a phone call, but the idea is that I will become more secure in when I will hear from her, which will hopefully stop the panic cycle that I’ve written about before. 

This has worked mostly successfully this week. It has been hard to wait for her email on both days – last night she didn’t email until nearly 11pm, by which point I had worked myself up into a complete frenzy that she had obviously forgotten about me. But she did reply, at nearly 11pm on a Friday night, because she said she would, and that showed me she does care. 

We had some difficulty at the beginning of the week because T really wants us to start using encyrpted emails…. and I really don’t. It feels too boundaried and constricted and like I’m something dangerous to be put in a box. To be fair to T, I had a total meltdown about it, a full blown temper tantrum strop, and she has backed down from it temporarily. It’s really important to her though, so I’ve asked if we can come back to it in a months time. I feel too insecure right now to cope with it right now but potentially it’s something we can work up to in the future. She seems okay with that.

I think it’s been a quieter week for GP and I, although flicking back through our messages, we’ve talked lots every day, so actually maybe not?! It’s felt marginally less intense and emotional though, so I hope he is feeling some benefit from T giving more support. It’s been a wobbly week for me as he’s spoken to my new GP (these acronyms are going to get very confusing!). He is handling it brilliantly and with such care, which is keeping it somewhat contained, but the change, the new relationship and the perceived risk of losing him (no matter how much he promises me I’m not actually losing him) causes panic and a desperate need to cling on tighter and to beg and to safety check. I know that this is the most unsettling part – somewhere between the first suggestion and actually just getting on and meeting her – at the moment I’m floating in all the possibilities my brain can make up (what if she hates me, what if I hurt her, what if GP leaves me, what if she’s one of Them, what if I lead Them to her and They hurt her, what if, what if, what if…). I know that when I’ve actually met her (and GP subsequently hasn’t left me because of it) then I will feel much more secure again. The nervous waiting is the most unstable bit and so I am going to register with her next week and try to meet with her as soon as possible. 

This transition from GP (he can be A from now onwards, I guess?) to new GP (who will eventually become just ‘GP’) is a massive test of one of my deepest attachment fears – that people only care about me because they have to, and that as soon as there is a get out clause, people will run far, far away. I know A has told me approximately 85 million times that he is still going to be just the same for me after, that this only changes who I go to for prescriptions/general doctor stuff for really…… but it is hard to help Little to truly believe that until she sees it. She lives in fear that love and relationships are tricks, that he might pull away from her afterwards. And if he does, then she will not be able to reach out to anyone and say how awful it feels, because to everyone else, of course you wouldn’t continue a relationship with a doctor after you were no longer a patient. If he backed away and she grieved that and pined for him, she would be made to feel inappropriate for wanting him. 

This triggers a lot from a relationship I had with a teacher at school, who was intense and supportive and wonderful… until she wasn’t. And then when she wasn’t and I was distraught, all that other teachers and friends could say was how silly and inappropriate it was to have that bond in the first place. Didn’t I know my place? Silly me, to assume I was cared about more than as just the pupil role that I was in. 

So for A and me, and for A and Little, this is a huge transition. He shows me all the time how much he cares, so I know this is purely a historical fear, but it feels very much like making the leap, letting go of his professional, doctor responsibility hand hold, free falling for the shortest time, and then holding his other hand, where our relationship hopefully will still exist because he cares about ME, me as who I am, and not me as a patient. That relies on him wanting to continue to know me and care about me and that’s terrifying when I just can’t understand why ANYONE would want to know me or care about me. 

I know that he will be there. I trust in us and our relationship and I have trust in him. But it still feels really nerve wracking and difficult to make the leap. 

I have lots to write about T and our work this week but I will separate that into another post. X 

Evidence of Caring


R was so wonderful yesterday. 
I respect her for being honest about her feelings and telling me the truth of her uncertainty. She could have agreed to see me more but then backtracked later… she could have agreed but then not been emotionally able in the extra sessions. I hugely value her for her ability to be honest with me, even though she knew it would hurt me. I really value her strength in holding strong to her own boundaries, whilst showing me how much that hurts her, and simultaneously holding my pain. 

Pain doesn’t really cover it. I put my head on my knees and sobbed, repeatedly saying I’m okay I’m okay I’m okay. You’re not okay, R said. It’s okay that you’re not okay. 

Still crying, I got up to leave. She pulled me into a cuddle and I sobbed into her shoulder, huge, loud, squeaks mixed in with hyperventilating gulps. Are you really okay to leave? R said. I can’t stay here forever! I squeaked. I pulled away from her cuddle and put my hands to my hair, pulling and tugging to try and gain control. No, I don’t want you to leave. Come on, sit down, she said, walking backwards into me until my knees hit the sofa and buckled. She sat on the end of the sofa with me, holding and stroking my hand. 

I have no plan, I sobbed, I really wanted you to have a plan. I know I’m an adult but I need a grown up to step in and save me.  You do have a plan, R soothed, and she recounted to me the steps I was going to do. I don’t want you to leave feeling like I don’t care. I care about you so much. 

Eventually I reined in the tears enough to not be actively sobbing. I pulled my hand from hers, trying to start the separation… she followed my hand with hers, held it and placed it on my leg, then squeezed it once more and finally patted it a few times before she let go. 

It was immensely soothing to feel that she was finding the ending difficult too.

I stood up to leave and said something light about how next time I see her I will be on holiday. She said she definitely felt this would be a huge help. And then I left.

These are our texts since. 

It melts my heart that, on a Sunday when she will be busy with her little boy, she has taken the time to connect with me. My heart aches with all the pain it’s in at the moment…. but inside all the pain there is a little ball of love, warmth, colour and positive energy from R. Love her. 


Super Sticky Glue


Dear T, 

I’m writing because it is keeping my hands busy when what I really want to be doing is destroying myself. 

I’m really sorry. 

I am so worried about us, and I am so worried about me 😦 I went to R today feeling really positive, that there was going to be a plan in place and I would start making steps forward. I had considered that maybe she wouldn’t want to see me more [I had hoped she would see me fortnightly] but I guess I hadn’t actually processed it. 

It was so helpful to talk everything through with her and she was reassuring that she wholeheartedly believes that you care about me and she said a number of times that the work is in my relationship with you and how important it is that, even if this is the beginning of our end, we still talk all this out before making the decision, the importance of a planned ending etc…she was wonderful. 

…but she “doesn’t feel comfortable” seeing me more until she’s run it through with her supervisor (who is helpfully away for a while)… and I just felt that no matter what the supervisor says, clearly she isn’t comfortable and I respect that. She must have said a hundred times that it’s a professional thing and not a personal thing, how much she cares etc…. It still made me sob though after quite an adult session.

 She ran over with me for about 40minutes because I was sobbing and she didn’t want me to leave like that but it was almost impossible to calm down knowing I had to leave her for a whole month without the stability she brings.  

I kept saying that now there is no plan…and R kept saying that there is, that you and I can make a plan, that she trusts our relationship. But it all feels totally hopeless because you don’t feel stabilising at the moment, I feel like we have hours and hours and HOURS of talking to do and I just know that that means there are weeks and weeks of sessions to go, that an hour is never enough to even begin to talk about all the list of my worries for us. So does that mean, now that R won’t see me, that I’ve got months ahead of more instability and heartbreak with you? R reeled off so many things she felt you and I needed to talk about, each of them sessions worth in themselves and I feel totally lost now. I really needed R to give me a sense of stability and now it’s a month until I see her and that’s awful. 

Little told R she is scared of you 😥 it makes me feel sick to hear her say it, what on earth have I done to destroy her security like that? How have I managed to ruin everything? 

I love you so much, I just want this to be okay again. I was hoping R would have a magic cure to this, that she would give me the stability I need which would give me the strength to talk everything through with you for as many sessions as we need. But she can’t and I just feel like the sky is crashing down around me. I need us to be okay again…. And I know that’s going to take a lot of work and I honestly don’t know if I have the strength. I am so, so scared. I feel totally exposed and vulnerable and I don’t know how to keep on going. 

Please don’t get mad with me. I think I will shatter into a million fragments if I hurt you again. Please just tell me that you’ve been thinking and you’ve remembered that actually you do have the magic cure… you know just what to do to make us okay again and to make me okay again. Tell me you’ve found the superglue to stick me back together, the glue to stick us back together. Please tell me you have a plan that doesn’t involve my raw, open, bleeding heart being exposed to weeks of further cuts and bruises.
Please tell me you love me and that is all we need and we are going to get through this low together and that this is not the end and that we are going to be okay and that I am going to be happy and beautiful and free one day and that this sad, ugly, trapped me will all be a painful sharp memory. Please tell me I am going to survive this. 

I am sorry for everything I am that hurts you. I’m sorry for this. I’m sorry for everything that came before this. I’m so so sorry. We love you and we didn’t mean to ruin us. 


The pictures in this post are from Pinterest… they are lyrics from ‘Liability’ by Lorde.

Finding Her


When I still hadn’t heard from T at 3pm, I texted her. It would be good if we were able to reconnect by phone today. I am free from now, if there is a time that suits.
She rang me a few hours later, on her way home from work. The first thing that felt different was that she was totally focussed on me. Quite often for our phone calls, she’s walking the dog or driving home, and I know she is listening but I also know she isn’t 100% focussed. Sometimes that’s nice because it means she’s more open and relaxed and human with me than she can be in session… but tonight it felt nice that she was dedicating time to listening to me. 

She started by saying that she didn’t feel she had been that negative about GP. She said that she felt, listening to me, that I was worrying about looking after him, and she was feeling protective of me. She referred a few times to a throwaway comment I had made, about his phone pinging at all hours and annoying his wife and that I worried she would hate me. She says she didn’t want me to get hurt and she is worried for me that I worry about him. She kept saying that she didn’t feel she had been otherwise negative… so I kept repeating that I it did all feel extremely negative and I did take everything she said about him as a telling off. Eventually she apologised, said she hadn’t meant to make me feel that way. “I just don’t want you to be hurt,” she said. 

She said that she felt I had raised concerns about him and she felt she wanted to reflect them. I said that I felt she had misunderstood. I worry for him, because I care hugely about him and he is so giving and caring and I don’t want him to burn out. I feel like I know how dangerous I am and I don’t want to break him… so I do worry that I will hurt him. I am not worried about him, I’m not worried that he will ever harm me (just that I might harm him). I know that if he ever burned out, he would talk to me, he would hopefully look after himself, but he wouldn’t blame me. I wouldn’t struggle with his need to look after him, and even if I found the distance difficult I trust that he would never intentionally harm me. She said she felt maybe she had misunderstood my worry.

I said that it felt awful that she questioned his intentions with me, like he can only be badly intentioned because nobody can actually love me enough to care like he does. Like I’m too damaged for that care. She immediately said she doesn’t doubt his intentions at all, that she knows it is purely because he cares about me. I felt that she had done that in our session, but she sounded very sure on the phone that she trusted he wasn’t ‘dangerous’, which felt soothing. 

She said she doesn’t want me to be stuck in the middle between them all fighting. That part of the reason for her wanting to talk was so that there isn’t any ill feeling between them. She said sorry for making me feel like I had to choose him, defend him. 

She said sometimes she feels like I’m idolising him and wanting her to be someone she cannot be. I said that wasn’t what I meant, but that yes, at the moment there is too little other support in place and he is often the only person holding my head above the choppy water. I said that it is very difficult to leave her and head into the other 167 hours in a week without her when things still feel horrendous and that he is supporting through that time at the moment. I said that I don’t expect her to ring me at 11pm, she’s laid down her boundaries loud and clear, but equally I find it very unfair that she should be chastising me for reaching out to someone who will help when things are unbearably low. 

I said it feels almost impossible to know who she is sometimes. I know how I would describe her to someone else – kind, warm, caring, supportive etc – but then sometimes she just switches into this ice cold, stone walled person who I cannot get to… and that terrifies me. It terrifies me that I’m never 100% sure which is the real her… with GP I feel like I get a good sense of who he is – him as an actual person. With T I feel like she gives so little of herself away and that feels very disconcerting. I said that it felt totally horrendous that she let me leave on Thursday, so so upset, and didn’t check in. Without taking a breath I said I understood why she didn’t but it still sucks and makes it almost impossible to find our relationship within that. She said that she knows me and she knows that I will reach out… but that yeah, she would have just waited to see if I turned up to this week’s session. That made me cry. It is so very cold and it is impossible to find the woman who cuddles me, reads me stories and tucks my hair behind my ear, in the therapist who was happy to wait a week for contact even though I had left in floods. I want to feel like I know who she is but her email and the way she let me leave the session feel like too much of a barrier to overcome right now. 

We needed to end then but I was crying and she said she didn’t want to say goodbye whilst I was upset. We stayed on the phone for a few minutes whilst she asked me inane questions about my sofa to get me to come down from the emotion.  She sounded like the T I feel I know today.

As we ended she said that it’s not going to be a big, bad thing, but she wants to talk about how we work together on Thursday. She mentioned endings – that at the moment she tells me when it’s time and I get upset, that maybe it would be better if she gave me a 10minute warning? She also mentioned that I will often email things which I won’t then be able to talk about in our sessions. She said we’d talk more then. 

Then we said goodbye. It was good to hear her voice but it still feels like we have a really, really long way to go. xx

Say Something, I’m Giving Up On You.


I’ve been trying to write for days but I haven’t had thoughts stable enough to try to convert them into linked paragraphs. I’m still not sure I can. This will be long. Sorry.

I feel at rock bottom. I don’t feel manic, crazy, hyper, panicked… none of those. I feel oddly calm. I just don’t want to be alive like this anymore.

I can’t live with these lows. I’ve been in a dip for what feels like weeks now and there is no sign of anything getting better. GP and I are in daily (frequently multiple times daily) contact. Similar for T and me. Each contact helps temporarily – it calms the rocky sea within me. Then they go and it immediately starts up again. It is totally relentless.

I don’t have any words to truly explain the depth and breadth of this. It’s damage from a time before I had words and I feel like I am grasping at bubbles trying to explain it… I can’t ever get a good grip and when I try too hard, it escapes me altogether. It feels a little like always being an outsider. Never being truly settled in a place or with people. A little like trying to hold a beach ball underwater. Like rattling around in a box. Like having no anchor within myself. Last night when GP asked me I told him it felt like I’m a balloon. Floaty and vulnerable and easily buffeted. The need to ‘check in’, find them in the world, comes from not feeling the tension on the string between them and me. The ground and me, the world and me. Without a sense of that link between us I feel ever more buffeted and loose until I feel total panic and lose all sense of who I am and where I fit in the world.

I know that there have been times when I have had a more secure sense of the string between us, but I don’t right now. I feel a need to constantly, relentlessly connect to them. A constant need to remind myself who I am.

I cannot hold what they tell me. I couldn’t willingly leave you, T told me this week. I wouldn’t imprison you by making you come but I couldn’t leave you because you’re YOU. You’re an amazing wonderful woman and I wouldn’t want to leave. You can’t push me away. I can’t hold onto that. GP says similarly – I am not leaving you. You cannot push me away. I will always have time for you. I care about you. 

They both ask me if I believe them. I don’t. I believe that they believe what they are saying – I believe that they think they will always stay. But I don’t believe them because I feel completely sure that they are only saying that because they haven’t seen the ‘real me’. That one day, they will realise who I really am inside, the core of me filled with rot and disgust and they will run so far from me. When they find who I really am, then they will leave.

*Trigger warning for this paragraph.* Last weekend I had an awful flashback of a time, or multiple times, where I had enjoyed something done to me. I know all the facts and information about victims of sexual abuse, how confusing it can be for very very small child to be touched etc…. I know all that. But it still feels pretty shit. *Trigger end.*

Little texted GP about it. She wrote and wrote about what she remembered and I didn’t censor it. I wasn’t really present enough to censor it. Literally as she pressed send a text came from him saying that he was with family and busy – I totally panicked that L had just sent him pretty graphic detail of her experience and he was at lunch with family. I texted to say not to read it… but too late. He later replied to say it made him feel sad, angry and powerless. Any initial comfort I had from his response passed almost immediately in waves of terrifying, overwhelming guilt that I had made him sad – that I’d ruined his day, that it was my fault he was sad, that he was definitely going to leave me now and that I had been too much, too dirty and now he would leave.

What followed was a few hours of trying to push him away…You can leave you should leave I’m unfixable, I’m broken they took me apart and put me back together wrong and that can’t be fixed it’s always going to be this way. I’m not yours, the responsibility isn’t yours, you don’t have to stay. I make you sad. I’m toxic and untouchable and my needing you isn’t fair it puts you too close to the rot and damage. Ring [potential new GP], give me to her and then run. I’m toxic and dangerous and bad and give me to her and get far away. Thinking about it breaks me but you are so important and you deserve to stay away from me.

And lots of self blame… I feel like it’s all my fault. They were bad people but I didn’t stop it. I never told, I hardly ever fought back. When I did it wasn’t enough. They ruined me because I didn’t fight hard enough, or sometimes even at all. I disgust myself. And everyone who had a chance to stop it didn’t because I didn’t tell… and those who must have known something wasn’t okay just decided I was attention seeking and clingy and never tried to find out what was underneath it all. I was already bad to them. I didn’t end it when I had the chance, just before I met you when life held so little value… I should have finished it then. But I didn’t and it’s my fault for not being brave enough. Now I would lose too much and hurt too many people all because I didnt do what I should have done. Meeting you and everything that’s come since makes life so, so beautiful and I live in constant fear of tainting the beautiful things by just being near them. We love and value you in so many ways and I’m desperate for you to always love and care about me and stay and i can’t bear to think about life without the person you are and the role you hold and all you bring… but i hurt you, because with me comes a whole load of toxic rot which I wasn’t brave enough to prevent or stop or kill. It’s too much, I’m too much. It’s my fault. I don’t want you to hurt. 

His reply – You can’t turn me against you. It’s not possible. Don’t even try. – gave me a brief respite, a brief moment of lightness at the acknowledgement that he knows me so, so well and that he’s the most incredible soul… but the guilt in my flashback and the guilt of hurting him by sharing hung heavy.

*Trigger for this paragraph.* That night I had two dreams. In the first, I dreamed that GP and I built a nest together. Pillows and feathers and foam and blankets and clouds (and Rabbit!). More cave than nest as we pulled the blankets over to cover most of the roof. Then he tucked me in and put some more squishy things around me and sat on the edge of it guarding and I slept in the nest cave with him keeping me safe. It was wonderful. I woke but then fell back asleep. In my next dream I dreamed that I had made him sad. I wanted him to be happy, I felt all the awful guilt and shame of making him sad… so I undressed. Knelt in front of him, opened my mouth, opened my legs. Dream me did everything she knew how to do with her body to make him ‘happy’. Dream me tempted and encouraged him. She wanted it because she so badly wanted him to love her. When I woke again I felt more disgusting and ashamed than ever. It was awful beyond belief and I felt like I was violated and that I had somehow violated him, too. That him knowing me was dangerous. *Trigger end.*

I spoke to T that night, and she kept telling me that I am not responsible for other people’s sadness. She made me smile (and also panic a little!) by saying she wanted to ring GP to tell him he shouldn’t have told me he was sad! I disagree – I was already triggered before he said it and it also really helps to hear other people react to my experiences like a ‘normal’ person, someone who feels what happened to me was so, so wrong – and I asked her not to. She said she wouldn’t – That’s me trying to rescue you, wanting to protect you. It did encourage me to check in with GP about who supports him when I hurt him and it did reassure me that he feels he would seek support as and when needed.

I still tried to not go to T for my session this week. I felt so sure that I would hurt her in the same way I had hurt him. When I got there I was super dissociative and remember very, very little of it. Almost none. I have snapshots of her talking to me, sitting on the floor holding my feet tightly to try and get me to ‘come back’, cuddling into her with the coolness of her bare skin against the sticky hot tension of mine. I remember her joking with me that she must care about me a lot because holding my feet is not in her job description! We ran over but we still hadn’t really resolved anything. When she told me time really was up, I put my head on my knees and sobbed. I left without saying goodbye.

I rang GP but he was busy. I drove home, still pretty dissociative. I had to pull over a few times because I wasn’t sure I could stop myself driving off the road or into oncoming lorries. I remembered a conversation a few weeks ago with T where I told her I would want it to look like an accident… and she said now I couldn’t crash because she would always believe I’d killed myself. I rang the Samaritans and cried until I threw up on the side of the road. I eventually got home and cried to my husband who struggled with what to say to my wish to die. GP picked up my texts and missed calls and we spoke at about 11pm. Bless his kind, good heart. By then I was pretty much cried out. Talking really helped, even though I could hear the worry in his voice, and then I saw him the next day. That hour and a half was warming and holding and comforting… but still I feel so low.

I wish I had killed myself a few years ago. When I had just split with my ex, I had no job, no friends, no partner, no family relationships…… I could have killed myself then and nobody would have cared. I am trapped now. Killing myself would upset my friends and family, those I work with… It would be selfish. Impossible to hide. I can’t just end things quietly, I cannot just slip away. Now I would disrupt and upset… Then I would have just vanished. I feel trapped by that.

I cannot live with the lows. I know that this will pass and there will be high points again – but that doesn’t feel like enough anymore. It doesn’t feel fair or okay that I had a truly shitty childhood, followed by a very difficult early adulthood……and now I’m an adult and despite all my hard work and all the therapy and all the people who support me things are STILL SHIT sometimes. I know this will pass but I also know that there will be more lows in the future and I’ve had enough. I don’t want to live a life like that. I didn’t kill myself at 23 because I had nothing then but I was holding on to hope that I would one day have everything I have now. It is agonising that I’ve got EVERYTHING I wanted now… but those lows still followed. Had my 23 year old self known that I would still feel these lows, she would have ended it.

Because it isn’t going to get better. My understanding of attachment is that it prevents the formation of early neuron pathways and there are gaps. I’ve seen images of an attachment disordered brain and a ‘normal’ brain and there are obvious gaps.

My understanding is that these gaps can only be “filled in” up until no later than 7 years old. Mine weren’t. Those ominous black gaps are there. So there will always be lows. I appreciate that they might become further spaced apart and I will probably continue to develop strategies to cope…. But that’s not enough. I can’t cope with them at all. I don’t want to accept them. I don’t want to live with them.

I’m desperately searching for a solution, a way to convince myself that one day it won’t feel like this, that one day I won’t have to worry about sinking into yet another awful low. I wonder about therapy, about the support I have around me. Is it right, is it enough, is it targeted on the right things? GP gently questioned whether my relationship with T is the ‘right thing’ therapeutically – are we too close? Am I challenging myself? Am I moving forward with her? I know that yes, I have moved forward massively through working with her. I know how much she has done for my self esteem, my security, my sense of self. I know that I couldn’t live without her now, or maybe ever – whilst I’m not totally secure in our relationship because I am still convinced she will leave, I know that she is the closest to a secure attachment that I will ever get – and if I forced myself to leave her, I would grieve horribly and then search instantly for another maternal attachment figure. So leaving her isn’t right. But should I be doing something else as well as that? I see R, but we probably aren’t as focused as we could be. We probably could be more focused, I probably could challenge myself more with her. But then that is almost impossible to do when I only see her monthly. Should I be tackling the symptoms of how I feel? The anxiety? Should I be doing something like CBT to try to address those horrendous anxious feelings I live with constantly? Or would CBT be pointless without addressing the root of all of this?

What even is the root? I’m becoming more and more sure that it all comes back to my core beliefs of who I am – my certainty that I am truly unloveable, unfixable, annoying, attention seeking etc… I sat in a coffee shop the other day and made a list of all the words I constantly hear in my own head.

When I showed this to both T and GP they both adamantly denied that they would EVER feel any of these things about me. T tried to acknowledge a few of them, that we can all be attention seeking when we need something…. but kept telling me she didn’t feel any of these things about me. GP repeatedly said the same. And I watched him, choked up and trying to convince me that when he thinks about me he never, ever, EVER would think these words……. and I couldn’t take it in. I am totally convinced that this is who I am, and if he doesn’t yet think of me in this way, it is because he hasn’t got to know the true core of who I am yet. Same for T. When they REALLY know me, when they find out who I REALLY am, they will leave. They will think these things about me. They will abandon me.

This makes me impossible. I need to hear, constantly, that they don’t feel these things about me and they won’t ever leave. Then they tell me and I don’t believe them. Then I feel guilt for having asked, for needing them… which then feeds back into the original need to hear that they won’t leave and they don’t hate me…. and then the spiral starts again. GP asked me what he could do to help me feel more secure that he is staying and he means it – there isn’t anything. No matter what he did, it would trigger off negativity somewhere else. If he told me 50 times a day that he wasn’t leaving, I would feel loved but intensely guilty that he was giving up time in his life. If he never told me, I would feel relief that he wasn’t close to me so I couldn’t be hurting him, but the attachment pull towards him would be horrific. I can’t win. He can’t win. There is no winning.

I recently wondered whether it would work to try and SHOW T or GP what I think is at the core of me. If I showed them, and they didn’t leave, then would that bring me permanent reassurance? When I was talking to my best friend about this yesterday, we recognised that this is impossible. I don’t have some internal demon or monster that I could bring out from the place it lives and let it rampage around. There is no physical thing that I could point at and say “That’s who I am. Hate me now.”. There is no true test of this because it is my perception of who I am and their perception of me is different. I hate myself when I reach out for comfort from them because I believe I’m annoying, needy, clingy, attention seeking….. but they tell me they don’t mind. It’s my perception that I need to change, but how? What the hell do I do?

And is it even possible to change my core beliefs about myself? GP asked me if those words were words that I thought of myself or if they were words told to me by others – and I couldn’t even really pull them apart anymore. Some of them probably came from others initially (slut, attention seeking, drama queen)… but they’re now so ingrained in my internal voice that it’s hard to tell. These feelings are so non-verbal and I know I have just allocated words to them after the feeling. T will tell me many of these feelings stem from the earliest removal from my mum… so how do I change what is at the very bottom building block of who I am?

I’m desperate for GP to say here, take these meds and it will get better. He won’t, and he’s right not to because this isn’t something a drug could fix. I find myself wishing for a label – if I could call it depression, anxiety etc then surely it is something I developed and as such can be ‘fixed’. But this isn’t something I developed – I wasn’t ‘normal’ and then this happened so logically I must be able to turn it back to normal again. This IS my normal. This is me – and I don’t want to be me anymore.

GP reminded me that all I need to do is carry on putting one foot in front of the other. I’m trying. I am. But I’m exhausted now.

This song really connects with me at the moment. It feels like a conversation between me and L.

Say something, I’m giving up on you
I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you
Anywhere I would’ve followed you
Say something, I’m giving up on you

And I… will swallow my pride
You’re the one that I love
And I’m saying goodbye

Say something, I’m giving up on you
And I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you
And anywhere I would’ve followed you
Say something, I’m giving up on you.


Loving Imperfectly. 


Thank you to everyone who commented on my previous few posts. Things have felt really awful but it always helps to know that there are people who are understanding and supporting me. 

T and I spoke on Wednesday, which was helpful. I mostly just howled down the phone whilst she listened to me, but even sobbing my heart out to her calm breathing helped a bit. I had backed myself into a corner by cancelling, part of me really wanted not to go (Sass, primarily) but Little especially was desperate to go. 

I mostly just sobbed about how much I needed her to love me. Eventually she said kindly that no matter how much she tells me, no matter what she says, I don’t listen to her. I don’t hold on to what she says. In a way this helped me calm down. It’s not that she doesn’t love me, care about me etc, it’s that I don’t hear her. 

T was helpful in that she promised me she would keep my session open and I could choose. Not go, phone session, or go. It helped to have the flexibility.

On Thursday I saw R before T. I explained the whole situation to R and we talked through the different options I had. I ranted and raved for most of the session until eventually I was able to draw breath and think. R is good for me because she says what she thinks. Her opinion was that all this pain, all this angst and difficulty, this is the work. The work is in the pain. We talked about how transferential this is, how most of this anger is actually for my mum, and how important it is for my healing to persevere with it. 

I cried when I talked about how hard it is not to have a plan. If I knew that I would need to be in therapy forever, then in a way that would be okay. I could accept it. If I knew I was going to get better, I could accept that, too. But it is incredibly hard to hold all the pain and panic that comes with the attachment ache… which is partially why it feels so unrelenting and unbearable. 

I left R with her telling me I should go to T and take this with me. Be honest. 

So, I went. She started by asking me if I was happy or angry about being there…. which was too hard a question, so she switched tactic and instead gently teased me and talked about light things until I settled into being there. Eventually she fell into a calm silence and I filled it with very calm, grown up talk about why things felt so hard. 

We talked around it for a bit. I asked her to tell me what her supervisor thinks, what she would tell me if she wasn’t in therapist mode. She repeated her faith that therapy is like an onion – this is just another layer. 

She also talked to me about how she thinks my therapy is a bit like a baby learning to walk. To start with, babies are entirely helpless. They have to stay where they’re put and they can’t change it. Then they start to crawl, and walk, but the steps away are always followed by looking behind to check that mum is still there. So for a long time there is a back and forth of walking away and coming back. When babies have bumps or knocks that can make them stay closer for a while, too. But eventually they learn enough independence to be okay walking far away. I see my role with you as helping you to find your independence, T said. I really believe you will find it. This is just a checking back moment. 

Eventually we talked about why this feels SO hard. When this need comes up I am almost immediately triggered by my belief that being needy (attention seeking, being a drama queen, over exaggerating and all those other lovely expressions my mum used to use for me…) will make people want to leave me. It will make people want to get away from me.

As we were talking I began to see the cycle that causes these awful moments of panic. First, the attachment seeking feeling happens. Almost immediately afterwards, I have the most overwhelming feeling that it is BAD to need them, I’m stupid for needing to reach out. This negative self talk then triggers the initial need thought into hyperdrive because being told not to reach out triggers the very vulnerable young part who needs to reach out. Which then in turn causes more self hatred and conviction that people will leave me. 

Need, self hatred and restriction, more need, more self hate…. 

At some point I break the cycle because the need gets too great and I reach out. This helps for a short while by soothing the need, but then afterwards actually heightens the panic in some ways because it triggers that self hate. 

So at the core of this is my disgust with myself and my belief that if anyone was ever to fully see the real me, they would leave. I saw GP tonight and he asked me if I believe him when he says he won’t leave me. I don’t! I believe that HE believes that he won’t leave me, but I hold a constant fear that he only thinks that because of who he thinks I am. If he was to find out who I really am then he would no longer want to stay. Whenever I think of myself, I remember this poem by Jeanann Verlee (she is a spoken word poet and this poem is immensely powerful to hear live, it’s on YouTube): 

I think they broke me. My body is melted wax, it is ripe and stink and bent. It is a mistake. I have a hornet in my head, she’s an angry bitch, she hurls herself against my skull. My body is a slug, a mob of sticky wet rot. My body is a spill nobody wants to clean up. 

There feels to me to be no better description of how I feel about myself than this.

The people I love would immediately tell me never to feel this way about myself. But I live in constant fear that those who I love and need the most will eventually find out that I AM like this. That one day I will expose the core of rot and pus and darkness within myself and they will leave. 

I wondered aloud with GP today what would happen if I wrote that core down and gave it to him. If he truly believes he will stay, maybe showing him and having him stay would help with this fear. I might try to write it down… showing it would take strength I’m not sure I have, though. 

Both T and GP have reassured me this week of their care and love. GP made me smile so much today when he was telling me how he sees me. T told me yesterday she thought I was incredibly strong. She was telling me about incubator babies – I was one and she often tells me she believes my attachments stem from those few weeks – that it is ‘classic’ for incubator babies to feel like I do and it is important we work with those feelings. She said that she thinks it’s easy to forget, though, that those incubator babies have the most incredible internal strength. Despite being dragged from mum and kept away from her, they survive. They don’t curl up and die, even though it must be beyond horrendous. You are so strong, T said to me, leaning forwards towards me in her chair. You are so SO capable. Sometimes we don’t talk about that and celebrate that enough. You survived! 

It’s been a hell of a month. Today is the first day I’ve felt very slightly lighter. I cried with GP today but I laughed, too. Same with T yesterday. Baby steps forwards. 

Before I finish this blog post I just want to write something about both T and GP. My blog is my diary, a record of my innermost thoughts and emotions. T and GP are both very kind to allow me to write about them – even though this is anonymous, knowing that a big blog world might be scrutinizing them must sometimes be challenging. On my last post, there were some suggestions that T had been harsh and cold – I just want to acknowledge that my posts are a snapshot of a moment in time. Sometimes in a moment when Sass is in control and I want the world to burn. Sometimes when Little is in control and no love is ever enough. Sometimes when I’ve been highly triggered and so the world feels too much like the abusive torture from my past. However, despite what Sass would sometimes say…these two professionals have saved my life through their determination, their perseverance and their kindness. A book I read the other day talked about how we all love imperfectly. Nobody is perfect and none of us are capable of perfect love. However, it’s still love. Sometimes they will get it wrong – they’re busy, tired, trying to reply whilst multitasking etc – but I am SURE I get it wrong with them much more often, and they stand by me and support me because that’s love, even when things are imperfect. I hugely value everyone who comments on my blog posts and who gives their opinion – even if it stings to read! – but please do not forget that we are ALL imperfect. The beauty is surely in how we love in spite of all our imperfections. 


Back and Forth.


Everything is a mess.

I sent my email and then a few hours later sent her a WhatsApp message. I’ve just sent you an angsty angry awful email trying to escape and now I’m crying so hard I can’t sleep because I can’t not need you. I’m a mess. I’m sorry. And this picture. 

She didn’t reply that night but did the next morning. I am so sorry that it is feeling so hard for you at present. I am very happy to see you on Thursday but understand you may want to cancel it. You don’t have to try in any way. What is important is you just being.

I got a WhatsApp message from you that made me unsure whether you were cancelling on Thursday or not. What does your heart want?

This frustrated me. What does my heart want? Surely that’s the entire issue. I don’t know. I just don’t know. 

So I replied.

Little’s heart wants to see you, spend time with you, come every day forever until you die and then she will die too so that’s fine. She wants to come because if she’s with you then she can be good enough that you will love her and being together means love and if we are together enough then you will love her enough to adopt her and that love will be so great that it will erase all the awful bad things and she will just be totally cocooned in you so she won’t feel this bad and she will be okay forever. 

Sass’ heart thinks Little’s heart is stupid, that you’re dangerous, and that if you knew that we were always going to struggle with these attachment panic periods then you should never have let us get this attached and you should have let me leave (uni), kill myself and find peace that way. Sass thinks this whole emotional attachment thing is stupid, she knows we are totally unloveable and always has been and can reel off all the people who came before you that ‘loved us’ but not enough and who eventually left and now you’re doing the same. She thinks L and I are intensely stupid for ever believing you could be different. She also thinks I’m stupid for repeatedly pouring salt into a wound. She knows that I know you can’t love me enough to cure this so she thinks I’m intensely dumb for coming back week after week to feel all the love I feel for you but then to leave and feel that attachment tear. She thinks L is pathetic, I’m stupid, she thinks you suck and she wishes I would just get on with ending it. 

My heart doesn’t know. I just know I need to feel better because I can’t hold this weight of feeling anymore. But I don’t know who of the two above to listen to. 

I don’t know what to do. Any decision is agony. 

She didn’t reply. 

Later that day I asked to talk. She said she was too busy, but that she would be very happy to see me on Thursday. 

This caused anger. You have to be happy to see me. It’s your job. That means nothing. I don’t know what to do. 

Eventually I emailed to cancel. She needs 48hours notice of cancelling and I don’t want to get charged.

This morning she replied to say she hoped I had a good week…she would see me next week.

Which triggered a meltdown, a begging for her not to leave me…

So now I am waiting for her to call. Waiting. Wanting to die.

Still waiting.

What to do. 


I’ve been meaning to write a blog post about how hard things are at the moment. I just haven’t had the words. My attachment insecurity is sky high, it’s agonising. For a few weeks T and I have had huge levels of contact, almost daily, sometimes more. It isn’t making anything better. 

I am now starting to question whether I’m doing something wrong. T can never be my mother and yet I am desperate for her. I feel that since the wedding I have pulled off my rose tinted spectacles and seen our relationship for what it is. She can’t be my mother. She doesn’t want to be and she couldn’t be even if she did. Before the wedding, for years I feel that I’ve bounced between insecurity and then a loving act by T which has then helped me pretend she’s my mum. Then I bounced back again… and so on. Now I can’t see her loving acts in the same way. She read me No Matter What the other day and I was sat practically ignoring her. She doesn’t mean it. She can’t possibly love me no matter what if she doesn’t love me in the first place. 

It’s become clear to me that my attachment damage is a lifelong thing. It might get better sometimes, but ultimately it is permanent damage to my soul, and there will always be relapses. I don’t know whether I am doing the right thing to support my management of this ache. I just don’t know. 

Below is my email to her tonight. I don’t know if it is the right thing to do. I don’t know anything any more. I just know that I need to feel better. I need to feel better now.


I think I need to cancel Thursday. I think I need a break from therapy.

I’m exhausted with trying to make you love me and I have nothing else to give to it, I am so so so tired and that, alongside the total impossibility of you being who I need, makes me wonder if, instead of repeatedly smacking my head against the same unrelenting wall, I should be keeping myself safe by running away. 

I saw GP on Friday and it was raw and exposing and awful. I was so switchy and hysterical with the attachment ache in my tummy. He kept telling me he felt helpless, he didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know either so mostly we just sat together with him holding my hands so I stopped scratching my wrists and me sobbing into his shoulder. He held my fingers tight and squeezed them, my dad used to do that. He kept saying he didn’t know what to say but he promises that he is never leaving me until a final, ultimate end, that I can leave him if I want to (that he hopes one day I will be strong and secure enough to be able to) but he has made his promise to stay and he’s keeping it, that he feels like he has adopted me and that it’s impossible not to feel parental emotion for me especially when I’m crying into his shoulder, that he will always walk with me. “I will always walk with you”. We were together about 2 hours. He texted me the next day to say he hates not being able to erase what happened and make things better.That he hates feeling helpless.

I texted him yesterday to say I’ve read from cover to cover a very intense but wonderful book – ‘My Name is Lucy Barton’. About a woman called Lucy who’s practically estranged from her mother after a very difficult childhood, Lucy gets appendicitis and ends up in hospital for weeks. Her mother comes to visit and it’s just their conversations, whilst Lucy is poorly and in bed with nothing to do but think. And an acknowledgement that bad things happened not because her mum didn’t love her but because she loved imperfectly. Which, really, is the only way we are able to love. Anyway, the doctor in the book reminded me of him so much I had to keep putting it down for fear of overwhelm. She describes him throughout the book as her ‘lovely doctor-father-man’. She describes the reason she loved him so was because through all the most difficult moments of being ill and this moment of emotional trauma etc, throughout it he ‘refused to look away’. I couldn’t find a better explanation for why he is everything my soul needs than that. He refuses to look away. Friday was awful, exposing, painful and raw but he never looked away from me. I couldn’t write a book, but if I did that’s what I would write about him.

And it’s still not enough. I’m still craving him, constantly. I’m still desperate to check he hasn’t left, to reassure myself he is still close by. It’s never going to be enough because I’m fundamentally broken in a part of my soul that is incapable
of full recovery. 

I nearly texted you this morning but then I didn’t because what’s the point? It’s an attempt to prove to myself that you are staying, you haven’t left me, you love me…. but you don’t, can’t, won’t and I’m torturing myself trying to make it possible. It’s not even a conscious thing mostly but it’s never ending. Inside all this pain atm is a growing angst that our relationship is currently mimicking that of mine and my mother’s. She can’t/won’t/doesn’t love me in the way I need her to, either. She never has. That’s the entire problem. That’s how she screwed me up badly enough to end up on your sofa. But I’m SO angry with you for feeling the same with us. I know we are very different. I could write books on how you are different. I know really. But I want to never see you again right now because you aren’t saving me by loving me enough. 

Not helped by such a beautiful few hours with GP where he is much more open than you (rightly) ever will be. We are friends on Facebook. He sends me songs he wants me to listen to. He tells me very personal things when they are relevant to me. Funny that, in that way, he mimics my dad. Much more obviously loving and open, but ultimately can’t save me either. 

This is epically long. Sorry. I don’t want to come on Thursday. I think this is me cancelling. Maybe for longer than just this week? I don’t know. 

I need to feel better.