We Deserve, But Are Not Owed

“The world doesn’t owe you anything”.

That simple sentence (and variations of it) has always had a way of instilling a sense of profound guilt within me.

When I say those words to myself, it’s meant as a punishment of sorts. A way of saying “so just get over it” or that I don’t deserve this thing or anything else for that matter. This is what I did in a previous post.

One of my readers commented on that post saying that “we do have the right to expect the therapist to still be a therapist” in response to my thoughts regarding the place I find myself in with my therapist. Those words were what made me explore this topic deeper. Explore my feelings. Because when I read those words, I felt a mixture of confusion, curiosity, and relief.

I realized what the problem was.

The right to, deserved, owed. I had lumped all those words together as meaning the same thing, even though the knowledge that they meant different things was buried somewhere in the recesses of my mind.

Whenever I hear the word “deserve”, I hear “owed”. But that’s not what it actually means. I particularly liked this definition that I found of the word. “Be worthy of”.

Deserve love doesn’t mean owed love. Having a right to something doesn’t mean we’re owed that thing. It simply means that as a human being we have a right to these things for simply existing. Just like clean drinking water is a basic human right.

But on the other side of the coin, just because we have a right to something, doesn’t mean we’re going to get it, either. And that’s the part that feels awful sometimes.

I’m seeing my therapist at her practice tomorrow. I stopped counting a while ago, but it’s about three months since I’ve last seen her or heard her voice. For some reason, I’m terrified. A big part of me wants to cancel, or just not show up. But knowing myself, I probably won’t. I can feel so many emotions simmering beneath the surface, just out of reach. I guess a part of me is afraid of what will happen tomorrow. What I’ll say, feel, or do. Right now, I can’t bear the thought of even looking at her. Guess I won’t be sleeping much tonight. Must remember my anxiety meds!

One of the biggest issues during this time has been the feeling of not deserving her or her time. I don’t get to be a part of her life. She’s so far away from me. Now that she has her baby, those feelings have only intensified. I’m thankful though that the past week or two I didn’t have any feelings toward her. I just realized something as I wrote that last sentence… I think part of my fear about tomorrow is reconnecting with her. With those emotions.

I wish I could believe that I do deserve her support and time. And while I did for a brief few minutes before I started this post, I’ve fallen right back down to feeling unworthy. Emotions suck. Just when I think I’ve made progress with eliminating all those past messages of being stupid, unlovable, and a waste of space, it all comes rushing back. It’s so frustrating.

On another note, but still related to this post… I’ve started a Ko-Fi page. I had something similar a while ago which I linked to on my blog, but removed it because I felt guilty even having it there. Undeserving. So starting this one up has been very uncomfortable for me, but it’s also something that I wanted to do. “Feel the fear and do it anyway”, as the saying goes. If you’d like to, are curious, or can support me, I’ll post the link below. I’m still getting started with it, so if you have any ideas of what you’d like to see, or have something that I can do for you, please let me know.

Anyway, I’m off to watch Wonder Woman and WW1984 (my obsession films) to try to stop myself from thinking about tomorrow.

I hope I come out of it in one piece.

My Ko-Fi page:

https://ko-fi.com/journeytowardhealing

Darkness, Please Leave Me Alone

I’ve been trying to come up with something positive and inspirational to write on my blog for a change again. But no matter how much I try, I can’t grab a hold of anything. And you know what? I feel incredibly guilty about that. My whole life, my mission has been to help and inspire others. To be strong for them. But right now, I’m failing at it. I can’t even help or inspire myself right now. I’m not that strong.

Over the past month, I’ve had one good day. One. The rest have been clouded in the thick fog of depression.

I know I must move. But everything is such a effort. Just walking down the stairs takes so much energy out of me. I know I must do things. But I can’t focus for too long, and don’t enjoy those things I love as much as I used to. I know I can’t stay in bed all day. But sometimes I can barely move. It’s as if there’s an unseen force pressing down on me, and I’m powerless. Trapped under the heaviness.

I’m so tired of feeling this way.

Why

This is a letter I wrote a few years ago, for a friend of mine who ended his life when we were 19 years old. I’m hoping that sending this out into the universe will help me let go.

Dear M,

You were one of my closest friends that year.

Standing on the balcony, without looking at me, you told me that you were in love with me. I didn’t know what to say. I just didn’t feel the same way. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I knew I didn’t want to lie to you either. I told you the truth, and I could see the disappointment and hurt all over your face. When you walked away, I wanted to come after you, but I didn’t.

You were in the house right across from me. Before I fell asleep that night, I thought of you. I didn’t know that it would be your last night. Why didn’t I come see you? I should have come to you.

But I never got a second chance.

Why couldn’t I tell how you were feeling? I’m usually good at seeing beyond masks. So then why couldn’t I see past yours?

I’m so angry with you. Why didn’t you talk to me and tell me what was wrong? Why did you leave me behind? It’s not fair.

I had just been dealing with my dad’s suicide attempts. And then you went and succeeded. How was I supposed to feel when I had just lost a few of the most important people in my life over a 2 year period before meeting you, and had to deal with my dad, and then you?

But how can I be mad at you when I have been wanting to take my own life since I was a little girl? That makes me a hypocrite. But I never followed through. I stayed when every part of me wanted to leave this life. Why couldn’t you? Why did you have to leave? Sometimes I hate you.

I couldn’t even look your parents in their eyes at your funeral. How could I tell them that I was the reason you were gone? Because that’s how I felt at the time. That maybe I was the reason you finally gave up. Sometimes I still feel like that. It seems like the only explanation. I couldn’t bear to look at your picture. I just sat there. Numb. Empty.

I was so angry the day after you left, when they told us all that God had called you home. I wanted to stand up and yell at them. How dare they say that! That was the beginning of the end of my journey of faith. I know you would probably be disappointed, but I just can’t believe in a god that allows so much injustice and suffering.

Everyone else seemed to be over it after a few days, and carried on as if it had never happened. But I just couldn’t. Nothing felt real, and everything was a blur for the next few months. Life seemed to go on around me, people talking and laughing, my best friend didn’t even know how much I was struggling. I couldn’t talk about you. I wasn’t interested in anything. The voices all around me, seemed like they were miles away.

My heart is broken today.
Never again will I see your warm smile.
Never again will I hear your contagious laughter.

You were only 19. Your whole life was ahead of you.
You’ll never get to see another sunrise or sunset.
You’ll never get to feel the cool breeze on your skin.
You’ll never get to see the beauty of a baby being born.
You’ll never get to see the random acts of kindness that warm the soul.
You’ll never get to experience the love you deserved.

I’m so sorry for letting you down.

I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.

You’ll always have a space in my heart.

Love,
Rayne