Trust Issues

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My therapist went on leave at the end of May, and we resumed our sessions the week before last. I’ve always had issues with therapy breaks, but this one was particularly hard. I wasn’t in a good place so the timing just made me feel that much worse. But I got through it.

The first day back, while waiting for the session, I saw my therapist talking to one of the receptionists. A doctor came up to her and welcomed her back. They were soon joined by someone else. Hearing everyone welcome her back sent a wave of relief washing over me. But not just because she was back.

For some reason I had been battling paranoid thoughts while she was gone. Thoughts that she wasn’t really on leave, but just needed a break from me. I told her this last week, and as often happens, felt so silly that I had entertained those thoughts. But it was real for me during that time, and I had a lot going on, so I tried not to judge myself too harshly.

Due to this, and other recent experiences, I’ve realized that I have deep trust issues. And looking back over my life I can see this so clearly. I struggle to believe that what people say and how they are around me, is genuine. The other thing I struggle with is understanding that what someone has said one day might still be true the next. For example, if someone tells me that they care about me, I might believe them in the moment, only to feel anxiety a little while later. Do they still care about me? What if their feelings have changed? A lot of the time, nothing needs to have happened in order for these thoughts and anxieties to arise.

The one I’m struggling with at the moment is the situation with M. My services are still on hold with the company I was freelancing with, and I don’t have another client, so haven’t been able to contribute to the rates and taxes these past two months. When I first moved in, M didn’t want me to pay rent or any of those things. But I felt better at least contributing something, so I did. Now I can’t do that. I still buy things we need for the house, such as groceries or cleaning suppliers as and when I’m able to, but still not as much as I’d like to.

I’ve told M that I feel like I’m a burden to her these days. She doesn’t see it that way. Her husband passed away last year, and she says she likes having another body in the house. She also enjoys my company, and sees me as a daughter. That I’m far from a burden. When I first moved in, we agreed to always be honest with one another, and if there are any concerns or issues on either side, to raise it as soon as possible. So even knowing all this, I’m struggling to believe that what she says is how she really feels. I’m worried that she’s just saying all of this because she doesn’t want to hurt me or something. I know I need to look at the facts in order to overcome this way of thinking, but sometimes I’m just not sure what the facts are, or whether they really exist. It’s frustrating and confusing. I don’t like questioning people’s words or their motives. But yet it feels like such a deep thing and not something I can just instantly stop doing by making the decision to do so.

I also know it comes from my experiences with people and situations throughout my life. I’ll share a few of these.

My first stepmom (of 13 years) would be so nice to me in front of my dad. I would think that maybe she had started to like me or even love me. But then when my dad wasn’t around, she would continue treating me badly and bullying me. She’d say something in front of my dad, but then say the opposite to me the next time. So I never quite knew where I stood with her. With my dad too. He would say one thing, but then the next day he would deny having said that, or telling me (or us) that he didn’t mean it that way or we heard wrong. It was all very confusing.

There was also the situation with my mother. I would see her two weekends a month. My dad and stepmom would tell me that my mother didn’t want me, which was why I was living with them and not with her, and try to discourage me from going to her. They would tell me things about her and things she apparently did or had done. There was never a good word toward her. But when I was with her, even though I didn’t feel that motherly bond or connection, the things I saw her do and how she treated others and me, didn’t fit into the picture of what I’d hear from my dad and step-mom about her.

Then there were the countless other women my dad dated and those we moved in with. When the women (and children) weren’t around, my dad would tell me all sorts of things about their relationship that I didn’t need or want to know. He would also tell me all the problems that these people had with me. I hated this, because they never told me these things to my face. With each new woman I tried to go in cynical. But they would be so nice to me and deep down inside I would think that maybe this time, this woman, would be that mother figure I had always wanted. That would all go out the window when my dad would start with his gossip. I would switch between believing him, and being confused when these women seemed to be nothing but nice to me. When they eventually broke up, my dad would tell me it’s because they couldn’t accept me and had a problem with me. Never mind the fact that he was very irrational and a bully toward them. He would never mention that. It was always just about me.

My dad seems to be the common thread in all of these, but there are other people and situations that he had no part in. So yes, it makes sense that I have these trust issues. I just wish I could get over them and that they didn’t have an influence on my relationships. But at least I’m fully aware of this now and can do the work necessary to start to fix this. And that’s where therapy can help. My dad once asked why I’m still in therapy. It’s been more than 2 years already. I’ve asked myself that same question. But just as our environment and experiences form our personality over many years, it makes sense that it can take years to heal and change.

Trusting someone is difficult. But so is not trusting them. I hope that one day I won’t have that little voice constantly throwing doubt at everything people say.

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Is This Who I Am Now?

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Since the post I wrote on meeting up with Elizabeth again earlier this year, I’ve seen her a few more times. We always end up staying together for hours. But I’ve realized something. I don’t have feelings for her at all anymore. The times we meet up, I’ve initiated it. It’s on my terms. We exchange voice notes often, but it sometimes takes me days to reply. Just because I don’t feel the desire to talk to her. Well, it’s not just her… I’ve become terrible at replying to my messages from anyone.

I’ve been going through a challenging period in my life the past couple of weeks and I’m not sure about anything anymore. I had a therapy session today and when my therapist asked what had suddenly made me emotional at some point, I wasn’t really sure how to answer that. Because I’m not sure myself. I did mention some stuff, but I couldn’t seem to find all the words for everything that was going through my mind and to verbally express how I was feeling.

One of those things is about Elizabeth. I feel like I’m just using her. I never thought I’d be one of those people. But here I am. And I don’t even feel guilty about it, like I would have in the past. I call her when I get lonely. Not because I want to see her, but because I want to experience that intimacy she provides when we’re together. When we’re sitting having drinks and she has her arm around me, or holds my hand. There are no feelings involved, other than the physical sensations of her soft skin, the warmth of that. Relishing in that. But no emotional feelings. I feel emotionally empty. Especially with regards to her. I don’t trust her either. We discuss how we’re both enjoying being single, but intimacy is missed sometimes. Even though neither one of us wants to be in a relationship at this point in time, I find our moments together satisfying. But once we part ways, I’m glad to be without her again.

The evenings never go further than that. Although she slept over at my place on Sunday evening, it was more a case of convenience. We slept in separate rooms. I have no interest in sexual intimacy with her. Not with anyone. In that, I feel broken. Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to share those parts of my story.

I feel like I’ll never be able to love anyone again, not in the romantic sense of the word at least. I’m feeling disconnected from life. From myself. From love in general. And I’m not sure how to break through this glass wall. I see those people I care about through it, but I can’t reach them. They, along with my more “human” emotions, are out of reach most of the time these days. That little crack in the glass during my session was quickly mended and now I’m just empty again.

A Reframe on BPD

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I came across this article in my inbox this morning and wanted to share it on my blog. I really appreciate the way Annie approaches this subject with empathy. All her posts are worth a read and I can highly recommend her blog.

https://anniewrightpsychotherapy.com/a-reframe-on-borderline-personality-disorder/

You are good enough.

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I don’t usually reblog anything, but had the desire to do so with this amazing post. This is something I needed to read and I know a lot of people need to be reminded of these simple truths.

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Don’t let this world make you bitter.  Don’t let the actions of other people turn you cold inside.  Things happen that hurt us, people come that leave us, and you are going to fall.  Don’t let these things change you.  Don’t let them make you unkind.  It’s okay to feel how ever you feel.  But it’s never okay to let the actions of other change who you are.  Even if it seems like there is no good left in the world, continue to be that little bit of good that brings hope.  Things of value require sacrifice.  Don’t let anyone invalidate or minimize how you feel.  If you feel something, you feel it and to you it’s real.  Nothing anyone says has the power to invalidate that.  No one else lives in your body.  No one else sees life through your eyes.  No one else have lived through your experiences. …

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The Strength To Keep Going

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I had my usual therapy session yesterday. I didn’t want to go. I left later than I usually do, battling within myself until then. One of the reasons is because I didn’t want to set foot in that clinic again. I didn’t want to run into the person I mentioned in my previous post, or anyone else there. It doesn’t feel like a safe, healing place anymore. It had its season in my life. It helped me once. But that’s over now. It’s time to move on.

The other reason was that I wanted to disconnect at least a little from my therapist. Not because of anything she did or didn’t do, but because of wanting to let go of my attachments. But I realized again yesterday how important healthy attachment can be. Connection sustains us. It’s part of being human. The minute I sat down in that office with her, I could feel my defenses starting to crumble. I felt drawn towards her again. The one thing I didn’t want to have happen. But I’m really glad it did.

I haven’t been kind to myself for a while now. I’ve been treating myself like my own worst enemy. But I was inspired by my therapist, just by the way she interacted with me yesterday, the kindness and gentleness she showed toward me, to start treating myself like a friend again. I’ve come to realize that treating myself harshly only feeds the cycle of depression. I’m not perfect. I’m never going to be. There are a lot of things I don’t like about myself, but I also have a lot of good qualities. Which is something I tend to forget. My therapist often asks me whether I allow myself to feel my emotions without judgement, and most of the time, I don’t. I can’t stand it when other people judge one another, yet I so easily judge myself. Most of us struggle with this, and simply being aware of it is part of making the change.

Near the end of the session, I asked my therapist about the other office she practices from. It’s further away, but completely do-able. So we’re going to be moving our sessions there. Well, she wants me to first just try it out next week and then decide. The office I currently see her in is shared with another psychologist at the clinic, so it will be nice to see her in her own. The day and time will also change. I don’t like changes to my routine, but this is one I’m happy to take on. She’ll be there after all, one constant.

I’m still a little more wary with regards to connection and attachment than I was before this thing happened on Tuesday. But I choose to trust my therapist as much as I am able to at this point. The connection I felt with her yesterday is holding me. Giving me strength to keep going. It doesn’t solve everything. I’m still feeling depressed. But knowing that at least one person has my best interests at heart, and feeling supported makes a difference.

I want to mention something regarding my previous post. I thought about taking it down because I don’t want to scare people who need it, to not seek help. But that post is the reality of life with mental illness. Even of life in general. It’s part of my story, and that’s what this blog is about. I was in a lot of pain and in a very dark place when I wrote it, and reflects only one part of my experience with mental health professionals. I’ve had some good experiences as well. So I want to encourage anyone reading this, that if you need help, absolutely (and please) ask for it. It’s hard to do, and sometimes you won’t get what you need from certain people, but there will always be someone who will give you their hand and be glad to help.

Why I Won’t Be Reaching Out Again

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It was my birthday just recently, and I had a bit of a “mid-life crisis” that day. Panicking that I’m in my middle 30’s and still living with parents, and that it seems things will never get better. It doesn’t help that I’ve been in a depressive phase as it is for the past while. I go to bed praying that I don’t wake up, but when I do wake up try to tell myself that today will be a better day. It never is.

I find myself becoming increasingly unstable, and I don’t know what to do about it. I learned a couple of months ago that reaching out for help either gets met with rejection or being completely ignored. Of course, I knew this for most of my life, but I seriously thought and hoped (and was told) that it wouldn’t always be that way.

Tonight I learned the hard way again. It doesn’t matter how much I’m struggling, or even when I desperately beg (something I never thought I’d ever do) for that support- support they absolutely have the power to give- I’m not going to get it. The message I hear loud and clear is “you don’t matter”, “your life means nothing to me”, and “I don’t care”. It especially hurts like hell when it comes from someone you’re so attached to, someone you thought cared. Finding out they actually don’t… Words can’t accurately convey what that feels like.

I genuinely feel unworthy, rejected, abandoned and like I don’t belong anywhere. Just want to mention that I’m not talking about my therapist, but someone else in the mental health profession. Although on that note, the way I feel is that I’m just another client. That’s the truth though… I am just another client. I’m not special. I’m not important. You know, you go into therapy and don’t count on how important that relationship is going to be. But I’m beginning to see that I don’t want that relationship anymore. I don’t want a close relationship anymore, because it just leads to hurt and disappointment. Our therapists are professionals and can’t give us some things we wish they could. They’re not our friends, siblings, parents, etc. It’s just a working relationship. I don’t see the point of attachment anymore. I don’t think there ever was one, other than a baby’s necessary early attachment to their mother or primary caregiver.

Often these days I wonder… do I even want to continue? Because I’m slowly giving up on attachment and support. I’m definitely done with asking for help. From now on I’m a closed book. No one needs to know I’m struggling. After all, it doesn’t help even when they do know.

Life & Road Trips

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A comment by one of my blogger friends reminded me of this post. It was one of the first I published on this blog so most of you wouldn’t have read it. I’m also reblogging it because I needed that message today.

Journey Toward Healing

Being in a contemplative mood tonight, I want to write a post regarding a few things from my recent experience, as I wrote about in my first post Goodbye’s.

I was going to be driving approximately 1321 km (820 mi) over the course of 3 days. No one thought my car would be able to make it over 2 days. I’m certainly glad I didn’t attempt to. I had a few problems and had to stop at each and every gas station, but nothing major. The car wasn’t the problem.

Instead of taking the usual highway, I was advised to take a back road instead. I have Google Maps, so we were sure it wouldn’t be a problem.

Oh, but it was.

That first day driving, I spent the majority of the trip crying like a starving baby, and wondering what the hell I was doing. So it certainly didn’t help matters much…

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