It’s been almost four years since my therapy journey began. FOUR. YEARS. Who knew that 25-year-old me had so much shit to process. I guess that’s what years of abuse, dissociation, self harm and pain will do. I’ve realized that I’m beyond ready to let my pain be seen in hopes of finding others who get it. I’m tired of hiding behind my screen waiting for everyone else to post. I want to join the brave writers right here in my own space with my own voice. Maybe I’ll impact someone just like many of you have greatly impacted me.
So where do I start? I have 29 years of life under my belt, there’s no way I can get you up to speed in the first post. I guess it will just have to be okay that we’ll learn as we go. There’s no pressure to dump it all out right now. There’s no time limit. The good news is that I’ve always found comfort in writing. I’ve got loads of journals (probably close to 50) full of drawings, poems, writings, and letters from the time I was 6 to now. I have countless emails to my therapist. I know that all of these are important to my healing and I’ll put them here when the time comes.
The tricky part is knowing where to jump in. Right now, I’m in the trenches of therapy. I had a session on Wednesday that left me with the feeling of “what the hell just happened?” Or what the hell happened that dropped me flat on my face during the session. Where did it all go wrong? I’m so over the attachment ups and downs. The constant wondering. The fear of having it ripped away at any moment.
My therapist, C, has become a surrogate mom for me. She knows it and I know it too. She truly is wonderful and I’m thankful to have her. It’s hard to write when my thoughts and feelings are split right down the middle. The adult part of me couldn’t be more grateful for C. Couldn’t feel more loved and cared for by someone who goes WAY out of her way for me. I completely acknowledge that what she gives me is what other clients can only dream they would get. C emailed this to me toward the beginning of our work back in 2019:
“I do hope you can believe me one day and until then I want you to know I am here and you can reach out anytime and say ANYTHING you need to as I won’t get mad, blame you or not be there. Thanks again and I do hope you hear my heart through your pain and I will help you today, and however long it takes.”
It’s amazing isn’t it? That kind of love and care even outside of the therapy room. BUT UGH it’s like my mind can’t take that in when I feeling like I did when I was 4. If only this healing process wasn’t so messy. But again, abuse and pain are messy.
So, Wednesday. It was trigger on top of trigger. I had some plans with my twin sister get canceled last minute and it sent me into an epic downward spiral. All because some plans got canceled? I know. But really, I’d been unraveling for a while and I think this was the final straw. I was completely dissociated and all I really wanted was to feel deeply connected to C. She should’ve been able to sense that I needed a hug. I mean how could she NOT have sensed that? It was practically oozing from each pore in my body. She’s not a mind reader, though. (this would be way easier if she was). I left the session feeling completely disconnected from not only her but from myself. I felt like she didn’t even try to dig deeper about what was coming up. Sigh.
Now my brain is fragmenting again and I can’t think straight. Does anyone else’s vision blur when you start dissociating or is that just me?
I’ll save the deeper thoughts for the next post. Starting off strong right? LOL!
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