29 days
It’s Friday March 7th, twenty nine days since I received the news of my abandonment by my therapist of 3 years. Everyday I’ve battled my demons, my depression, that deep dark hole where I’m so very alone. This has been an extremely challenging episode in so many different ways. I’ve went to places I’ve not ever been, so deep and dark that even though I have a somewhat comfortability in my familiar darkness, this time was not so familiar at all. Scaring myself at the levels I succeeded to drop into, the self destroying thoughts that permeated my brain.
I am sure much of that fall was because I’ve been so alone with this journey. Not my choice but it is what I have available at this time. Trust is so elusive, so fearful of another disappointing and painful outcome. Me, myself, and I trying our best everyday with that best falling on some wide scales of how it shows up.
Last night after twenty nine days I am finally able to breathe, to see some light from the deep dark hole that I fell into once again. A reprieve, a shift, a digging out of sorts, that has allowed me some space to find a few glimmers of color back in my world. Instead of blankly staring, a smile at a joke heard on TV. Instead of annoyed, feeling comforted by the sweet soft purr of one my kitties resting on my lap. Actually noticing and finding delight in the antics of the humming birds at my feeders outside. Enjoying listening to music instead of feeling the sadness of it. Welcoming the transposition of my thought processing: that black cloud that causes so much chaos is dissipating into light shades of grey with some clearing for now.
Today I will just take it slow and easy and try to relish some of that color and those glimmers, those small but important sparks that have been so absent and lost, impossible to find all these weeks. Crushed by the enormity of it all, pushed back into the deep dark pit to live in depression, my good friend Lola.
Sometimes I worry that I just keep going back because it’s familiar, sadly comfortable because of how intimately I know her. But the reality is she really only keeps me stuck in the pain and hopelessness of despair with her promising lies of destructive solutions. It’s hard not to want to believe as she’s shifts into her own treacherous mirage of beauty. Worthless, the temptress, never far away, the leader of the gang, of the group I call my death squad.
For today it is quieter, much more calm and peaceful. It seems a small path has been cleared from the crushing weight of it all, uncovering things bit by bit, hoping I’ve made my walls stable enough to stop the dirt from falling back in, to keep searching for the light that’s out there for me. I don’t want to keep living in the dark.
I know there is still much happening for me, in me, with me. I will continue to sit with it when I can and to let it rest when I need. I will hope that I find help, true genuine help for all these parts that have been so deeply wounded again. Another challenge of my resolve to help myself.
It’s easy to give up but the only road I’ve traveled in all my years is the hard fucking way. Why would it be any different now?
I know that this new wound, this loss, this great pain of betrayal and abandonment will take more work. That there will be days that waves of grief still come and overwhelm me. This lesson is a hard one that I shouldn’t have had to take on but it’s here and like everything else, all I can do is give it the best I have offer. I know I will need help with it all if I am to find lasting success with change
I’ll shed many more tears because this one is deep with so much attached that needs to be processed. Losing someone so important in my life, the safety of their trust and support, is going to take time to understand and accept. But I’ll take those tears as long as they can still have some color. I am still here!
Double I. Me, myself, and I. Alone. Sad. A little lighter. Thanks Self.
3.7.25
“I helped myself.
I put balm on the wounds.
I put bandaids where my heart still hurt.
I took my time.
I read books that soothed my soul,
listened to music that calmed my nerves,
watched movies that made me smile.
Step by step. Piece by piece.
I pulled myself together and gave myself
a second chance.
Because I knew that if I didn’t do it,
no one would.”
Ruby Dhal
You write so eloquently, which is always the case from the profoundly honest. An old boyfriend shared a speech he had heard in AA, given by an ordinary guy -- no fancy writing credentials -- and I was blown away. Aspiring writers or poets don't realize that being "good" simply means being true, being real. Back when I did my own three-year writing journey on a blogger site just like this one, three was an older guy in my writing group who had poor grammar but beautiful ideas. Within a year, the grammar cleared up on its own, just from his constant writing, and his writing soared.
ReplyDeleteI know you're not doing this to become a writer, but the beauty of your flow and style are worthy of mention.
I replied to your most recent post, which was over a month ago. I hope you're okay.
P.S. I meant *your* last post was a month ago. That's what I replied to. I have these posts set up for a reply, meaning if you respond, I'll get an email note. I hope I hear from you.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for reaching out and your kinds. Writing from the heart is the only way I know. I use it for a release and to process all the thoughts of my busy brain. I will respond more on the latest post. I welcome your feedback and conversation!
ReplyDelete