Group starts up again tonight. I’ve been going back and forth on whether I’ll be going back since the evening I found out that I won’t be able to go from February onward. I’ve decided that I’ll go tonight, only because one of the ladies I’ve been speaking to regularly is going and would like me to be there too.
I feel let down by the entire team (there are other reasons too), and also that the option to check myself into the clinic if I ever feel myself spiralling down too far is gone. And there’s no other place I’ll go. This was it.
Is it wrong to feel abandoned?
While I understand why they’re changing things, to me, the logic doesn’t make complete sense. The program is there to help prevent relapse and further admission into the clinic. But with the change, it feels like it’s not going to serve that purpose. The psychologist who told us the news could see how it affected some of us. One of the other regulars was telling me how hopeless she feels now. That this group was the only support system she had.
“Get a therapist.” Those words, uttered by the psychologist to her that night, are etched in my mind. He doesn’t get it. It’s not about having a therapist. The value of the group lies in feeling like part of a group of people who understand those parts of us that others in our lives just never will. In an environment that’s protected and led by someone who knows what they’re doing. This lady I’ve been talking to, really needs these Tuesday’s. And she can’t afford a therapist.
A lot of the regulars have left over the past few months. They were ready to move on. Those few of us who are still there aren’t ready to move on just yet. I was slowly starting to get ready, as I didn’t feel the need to go every Tuesday anymore. I’ve skipped a few over the past couple of months. I would have liked to have had the option to continue going as long as I felt the need to, and not have a time limit suddenly thrown at me.
It feels like one of my support systems has crashed and burned. Sounds dramatic, I know. But it feels dramatic to me right now.
Anyway, I guess they don’t owe us anything.
I don’t want to feel this way anymore.
I’ve been carrying this sadness alone for a while, and it’s been fine, I’ve been okay. But now I would love to have someone reach a hand out to me, and walk through this with me. I don’t want to do this alone anymore. I’m so tired.
I’ve been going through a few things, things I haven’t told anyone I’m struggling with. I feel quiet and withdrawn. I can’t seem to reach out even though I want to. And no one can see what I’m going through. I’m still good at hiding my deepest and truest feelings. I can’t seem to speak out. I can’t even write about it here. The one place I can be completely open and honest.
There are moments where the sadness is so great that even when you’re being verbally attacked, all you can do is stand there, unable to move. The words seem to float over you and disappear into nothingness. There’s no more space for anymore sadness.
That’s where I am. I’m hurting, and wish someone could see through me and hear my silent cry for love and care. Someone who will look deeply into my eyes and really notice me. But how can they, when I’m hiding.
There’s a hole inside me that I can’t fill myself no matter how hard I try.
It’s been a tough couple of weeks.
Seeing my ex again affected me so much more than I expected. I didn’t actually think it would affect me at all. But what gave her closure, opened up old wounds in me. Wounds, I realized, I had just placed a band-aid over.
Leaving the relationship was hard. The hardest part was leaving her behind, knowing I had hurt her by ending us. I hurt for myself as well, but most of the pain and sadness I experienced was for her. I would push my own feelings down as often as I could. I had a few moments here and there where I would just break down, and experience the pain I was in, the doubt, fear, sadness at what I had lost. I spent more time trying to convince myself that I was okay.
This time has been so much harder. I started off feeling a lot of anger towards myself. I caught myself thinking that I shouldn’t still be feeling this way. It’s over. It was over a long time ago, so there’s no reason for it to be an issue now. Thinking that I shouldn’t have gone to see her. But I did. I can’t change that. All I can do is accept the consequences, and deal with them.
Beating myself up for feeling this way, was just reinforcing a pattern I’ve repeated throughout my life. When I was thinking “I shouldn’t have gone to see her” that made the anger even stronger. Why? Because it sounds (and feels) like a demand and a judgement. The better way of thinking about it, is stating a preference instead. I wish I hadn’t gone to see her. When I changed it to the latter, I felt more compassion and gentleness towards myself, and the anger lost its sting.
It’s okay to feel this sadness. It’s okay to cry. It doesn’t mean I’m weak. It means I’m human. It means I loved. It means that I cared enough about someone to notice their absence and feel the loss. Our tears help soothe the pain we feel. They heal us from the inside out.
Our emotions, what we feel at any given moment in time, is neither good nor bad. They just are. I would rather feel, than numb myself again. Because at some point, that numbness will go away, and I’ll be forced to feel anyway. Whereas if I allow myself to feel all those emotions as they come up, they will pass quicker. These emotions aren’t going to kill me. I can’t rush it, I can’t force it. I can instead allow myself to go through this grief and see it through.
I feel that I’ve changed during this process over the past few weeks. There’s healing taking place. Not just with regards to the end of the relationship, but also in my relationship with myself. As painful as this process is, and has been, I can see the beauty in it.
I’ve been trying to treat myself with compassion. When we silence the inner critic, and let go of our judgments towards ourselves, the true healing begins. When we allow self-compassion into our hearts, it can change so much of our experience. It shows us that we’re valuable and worthy.
I took the day off from work today. I was feeling too bad, and needed time to just be. Away from the outside world. I took a long, hot bath, and did some art therapy. My new favourite thing.
You might think that I regret having gone to see my ex that day. But I don’t. Now I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that it really is over. That there’s no going back. I also gained something important. That’s my closure.
My heart is heavy today. But it’s healing.
Did a photo shoot for some friends. Wasn’t up for it. Depressed. Did it anyway. They seemed to be having fun. I was on autopilot. Tried to have fun. It wasn’t happening.
Went out for coffee with them afterward. Felt empty. Could barely talk. Good thing they seemed to be talking among themselves enough for my silence to be okay. For me to be invisible. And they didn’t notice a thing. Empty… Lonely… Depressed… Empty.
Supposed to be working on the photo’s. Something I enjoy. But not in the mood.
Just want to disappear. Want to be alone. But so lonely. Don’t want to be alone. Want to curl up into a ball, with a warm hand to hold. Lie with my head on someone’s lap. So cold. Inside and outside. Want to be soothed. Only have myself for that. Don’t want myself. Too much sad to hold alone.
That’s enough for today. Going to rest my face against my special super soft little blanket. Sleep in my therapy “jacket”. Hold onto that special hug. Pull the duvet over my head. Disappear into the dark for a while. Alone. Always alone.
My therapist went on leave for two weeks. I knew about this for two weeks before her break, and during that time, I didn’t think much about it. More importantly, I didn’t know how I felt about it. Like I told her in our session two weeks ago, I’m happy that she’s making time for herself, and taking this break. In Thursday’s session, she brought up her leave again, and asked me whether I want to discuss it and how I feel about it. I can’t really remember what I answered. It’s like a chunk of my memory has been erased (I’m so tired of this happening). So I don’t know what I had said. But I appreciate that she always discusses this topic, and tries to make it easier for me. She doesn’t just throw me into the deep end.
We have this special emoticon that represents a hug (not the traditional hug one). We made a deal to only use that one for us, not for anyone else. That little symbol comforts my soul, and brings a smile to my face every time she uses it. I sent her a text on Friday, as it was the last day I’d be able to until she gets back. I asked for one of our special hugs, and she sent me one. I hold onto that one simple little thing. A simple thing that means so much.
I’ve been thinking that maybe one of the contributing factors of my recent surge in abandonment fear, is due to me knowing that she’s going to be away. Even though, like I said, I didn’t give too much thought to it, I think it was stored in my subconscious instead.
It’s not about not seeing her for a session. I wouldn’t have been able to see her for a session in that time anyway. The weeks when we don’t have therapy, I’m perfectly fine with our contact between sessions. Some weeks it will only be one text or email. It’s more when I have something to say, or am feeling insecure. Sometimes I initiate it, other times, she does. Checking in. So that’s what makes her going away hard… We won’t have any contact. I miss her. And I’m sad that she left me alone (that’s what it feels like anyway). There are moments where I think that I don’t know if I ever want to speak to her again. Then other moments where I just want her to come back. I’m being selfish. And this feeds into the emotion I’ve been struggling with for the past while, which I’ll write about in my next post.
I once got asked by a friend of mine, who went to therapy for a year herself, why and how I can be so attached to a therapist. She understands attachment, but not between a therapist and client. I realized that no matter how you explain it, a lot of people won’t truly “get it”, unless they’re in the same boat. Almost all of you who have BPD have this same attachment to your therapists. I always relate to your posts on this topic. So I know I’m not the only one who gets upset and chaotic when our therapists go on vacation or take leave. Counting the days down until they return. Days that feel like weeks. It’s hard. And others don’t understand why we struggle so much with this. But they don’t need to understand it.
The words “she’s gone forever” came into my mind when I woke up this morning. I know it didn’t come from my adult self, but from the little part.
I know it’s not true though. She’s not gone forever. But why does it still feel like she is?