29 Days

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

Finding Space to Breathe

Finding Space to Breathe

Life has been so heavy for me so far in 2025. This past couple weeks has challenged me like I haven’t felt in many years. It’s difficult to keep fighting when you only have yourself to count on. Struggling but here I am writing it out. 

The last week I did some things that scared me, things I’d not really considered doing before. Making a list of people to call if I’m found dead and a few other details in that realm regarding my pets and possessions. I believe it’s considered part of making your plan. It surprised me somewhat that I got to those thoughts but it shouldn’t have since it’s been so very dark in my world. A true low for me.

I always am continually looking for harm reduction type things I can put in place for myself as I know I’m at risk. Options is one of my favorite words because for me, running out of those options will be when I die. The biggest promise I have between me, myself, and I, is I don’t make permanent decisions when I’m in my low depressive, black and white thinking, hopelessness and despair or any other cognitive distortions. So far I’ve not broken that promise. Not going to lie, I came close this week.

Warm lines. If you don’t what they are and you have depression with suicidal ideation you should have the numbers in your area handy. Why? Unlike the national suicide hotline, warm lines are run by peers and they don’t track your number and turn you in. It’s just someone on the other end to connect with, to talk, to bring yourself back, to stay. You don’t need to be in full crisis to call warm lines. You can call just to talk with someone. Some have an hour time limit but many will talk with you as long as you need.

I found myself in a panic. I knew I needed help getting out of it so I called. I talked. I found some space and was able to breathe a little bit more. It suck’s to not have any options to call someone I know. I just don’t have any support like that in my life any longer. All those type of friends are gone now, sadly have passed away. No family in my picture. Currently having no therapist has made any emotional support back to zero. 

I don’t know what my fate is right now. I am doing my best. Some days I just take minute by minute. Suicide for me is not about wanting to die, but simply not wanting to live this joyless life I’m in. They are separate parts in my system as they are two different things. I’m so aware of the workings that make up these parts of my system. There’s an entire gang I call the death squad.

Awareness is one thing. I do appreciate being aware of all the different parts that make up “me”. But I haven’t made much progress with change. The disappointment and hurt from being so close to some actual help, confronting these shadows of mine and having a plan that all disappeared when I was abandoned by my therapist. It’s hard to find the proper words to explain how many ways that has affected me. I’m still discovering the enormity of it all.

It’s so discouraging to think about starting all over again. Can I do it? Will I do it? How will I do it? Trust is locked away pretty tightly. So many unanswered questions to ponder. My brain is still searching but unsure if I can find solutions. I do realize help is needed. I’m going to search for a bit of hope with finding that help. At least I can breathe a bit more and I’m still here fighting for that breath. 

Double I. Still alone. Struggling. Me. Myself. I

Can I just say fuck. It seems appropriate.

3.4.25

The Big Darkness

The Big Darkness 

It’s as dark as it’s ever been in my world right now. Depression just sucks everything out of me and circumstance doesn’t help. I’m not sure how to help myself. Things are shifting and that can be scary. Of course I have lots of tools but they can only work to a point as this thing called depression can be so alluring and deceiving. So I come here to write, to get my words out because I don’t know what else to do.

Deep sadness and despair overcomes me right at this very minute as I’m writing. I feel so lost and can’t find any scrap of hope today to keep up this fight. I’m used to sitting with pain of all types but this time is different. Letting yourself experience what’s happening is supposed allow it to flow in and then out, like a river. Problem for me is things flow in but then swirl around like a whirlpool with a vortex that sucks it all in and holds it tightly underneath, trapping it all within. 

All the voices in my head, these thoughts and feelings of worthlessness and despair are suffocating me, slowly building up enough to crush my entire being. The past few days I been feeling defeated like no other time. Knowing I am totally alone right now has such polarizing effects on my mind. Getting so tired of the fight, the push and pull, like a tug-a-war that never ends. Will that thread that never seems to break keep holding me or will one side claim victory? I have not seen Ted and Teddi for awhile (my thread parts). IYKYK. 

I have doubts that things will change, that I can find some reason that makes me want to stay here. When this first went down I promised myself that this would not be what defeats and buries me. That’s not a promise I can keep right now. This is different. Being alone with no support I just never know. Minute to minute I’m trying my best to stay, to give myself a chance, but how many days can I sit in the shit and not drown? It’s already so hard to breathe. 

These battles in this darkness never seem to give me any relief. I know I need help but where will I find it? I do not know if I’m even capable of allowing anyone to help me again. The ability to explain what’s going on has been severely hampered by betrayal of my trust that is so hard for me to give. Will I have be so desperate that I won’t reach out until I get to the crisis intervention stage? Will I even ask for help then or will I succumb to all the voices in my head?

The pull of wanting this all to end is strong. My life is a fucking disaster and I don’t want to live this anymore. I didn’t want to wake up today but here I am. Still trying. Depression: like a never ending pile of dirty dishes. 

Where do I go? 

What do I do?

Depression….

Fuck you!

More thoughts in poems: 

Depression

Like lead bullets poisoning my bloodstream

Going to the center of my brain

Corroding my mind vault

Letting loose these feelings I trapped away for so long

These thoughts slowly enveloping me

Until there’s nothing left

No me

Just this beast I call depression.

End.

Every day is a challenge for me right now. People don’t understand and most just look away, not really wanting to notice or be bothered by those that might be suffering. I can’t predict what will happen. Right now it’s just all so empty and dark. I’m below my basement today. It’s all just too much sometimes. Why do you think I take drugs. At least they give me some relief, an escape, albeit temporary. It’s better than none at all. 

Consumed by darkness

All fades to black

Light you can’t harness

The passion you lack

The soul that once burned

Now freezes in vain

The answers once yearned

Now provided by pain.

End.

Is there any hope out there to be had? I can use some help finding some. Mine is lost. The vortex. Temptress. Numb Helga please take me away.  

Double I. Alone. 

3.2.25 

Skullduggery

Skullduggery 

Pinball was all the rage in my teens and 20s and it was something I really enjoyed. I was pretty good at it back in my day and one of my favorite machines was called Skullduggery. It had lots of fun sounds and voices and challenges. I also just liked the word skullduggery.

According to Miriam Webster dictionary, skullduggery means underhanded or unscrupulous behavior. It’s interesting but understandable that this word is coming up for me now. How can I not question everything that happened this past 3 years? How will I ever know if anything was what I thought it was when all I get is silence? 

The past three weeks has been really like no other. When your world becomes small like mine has, the losses become massive. This has been so unexpected and has affected me like nothing else I have gone through. It’s been very debilitating and discouraging as I don’t know how I will ever find my way back to any light. 

I been mostly in bed because I don’t what else to do, where else to go. My brain needs some relief from the constant voices, the unknown, being ghosted and truly abandoned with such a lack of care or concern. It’s difficult to be left wondering about so many things with the biggest question- was any of it real? Was I just another player piece of the game of life you crafted for yourself, to feed your ego and your family, without regard for the consequences that I now get to pay? Did you ever care about me? This feels nothing like caring but maybe I don’t know what that is anymore either! 

I’m very fucked up over this. It’s rocked my world in ways I’m just beginning to realize. It’s so confusing and overwhelming. I am questioning everything. I feel so stupid- how could I be so foolish to believe? How will I ever make sense when I get nothing to make sense of but sitting here alone with the pain of what was taken from me? Why would I ever want to put myself through any of this again when my results have only hurt me? I don’t know how to help myself but it’s a conundrum to even want to trust anyone again. I can’t even trust myself. How do I move forward?

I don’t have answers and I don’t know where I’m going to find any. The encyclopedia in my brain has been altered to such a degree that it’s no longer a place of truths. It’s kind of like Wikipedia; started out with good info but now diluted by others. Just a bunch of bullshit that doesn’t make sense any more. Is anyone out there with any kind of words for me today?  

I have always had a strong survival part but she’s tired. She wonders why are we continuing the fight. I never find answers. It just seems I continue to collect pain and hurt along my path. How can I not think this is my message, that pain is my destiny and what I deserve. I have tried so hard to help myself but when I’ve asked others what have I gotten? More fucking pain.

People suck in my world but I don’t want to live alone. Why get up everyday just to struggle? I feel like such a misfit in this world. Quazar is my part that never feels like we have ever fit in anywhere in this life. How could I? I’m always different than everyone else. Those differences are never celebrated but instead hidden in my attempt to belong. 

I have been told that I deserve good things just because I exist. I don’t believe that for one minute. There is nothing in this world we don’t have to earn- in some way we pay for everything. All the focus on self- care and boundaries are great but they should never be at the expense of others. Intention has so much to do with it. Are you self preserving or self centered? 

How will I find my way even if it’s just to something different? I have no clue. It’s not good being me right now. Simply existing day to day is not any kind of life I want to sustain. Joy has been absent for so long now. Hope is fleeting. Self compassion is non existent. I’m not sure how much longer my Soul Survivor will keep sustaining me on my journey. Do I even care anymore? If I don’t, does any of this really matter? 

Is there anyone out there? Today, a nod would do. When I reach out, no one reaches back. Alone. Me, myself, and I. Can Helga come out to play? Take me away from my reality. I’ve had enough for today

Double I

2.28.25

Quazar 

Exhausted

Exhausted

Today I have a new understanding of the definition of exhaustion. My energy is so low it’s almost nonexistent. My dysautonomia episodes take a lot out of me but today is a whole new level. 

I’ve had chronic pain issues for 20 years. Both knees and one hip have been replaced with the other hip due soon. My back is a mess with multiple levels of discs and stenosis. My hands and shoulders have issues. I haven’t been able to walk unassisted for 5 years now. Having so much osteoarthritis for so long has given me the ability to manage much pain daily. It wasn’t really a choice so I put the work in to make life as comfortable as possible. 

So many people have the wrong idea about mind body connection and pain. It’s easy to say it’s all in your head which is true but that doesn’t mean your pain isn’t real. There are still physical reasons for the pain- they aren’t made up or all in your mind- but can control how you are translating those pain signals. Pain signal manager. It’s something I’ve become very good at.

The biggest issue for me is not as much about managing my pain anymore but managing my energy as pain runs on a large band width. As I get older the amount of energy I start with decreases, causing that ripple effect, forcing choices that aren’t always optimal. I have had to realize the value of rest and become aware of my changing needs. 

The pain of the last few weeks has come from my body, my mind, and deep into my soul. Such a sharp wound, so unexpected, still so open and raw. Bleeding tears, wailing from my depths, waves of shocks, lost and confused. It has taken so much. 

Today is extra hard. Every cell in me is tired. I won’t be getting out of bed unless necessary. I won’t be brushing my hair or teeth or changing out of my PJs. I hope I can get enough nutrition and drink enough water. I have no idea how I will sustain and recover. The problem with depression is it lets very little motivation in. It’s getting harder and harder to pick myself up everyday. If I don’t do it, it doesn’t get done. Things pile up. 

That’s the scariest thought. I’ve only ever really had myself. What happens when my body gives up or my mind quits? There is nobody else coming for me….

So many questions. No energy to find answers. Not sure there are any….

Double I: Isolated and Invisible

Alone in the dark

2.26.25

Nuggets of My Truths

Nuggets of My Truths 

Clicking on the pictures makes them clear to read

Trauma Brain. Depression Brain. Full on Brain Train

2.24.25

Stalled

Stalled

 Grief and pain from loss don’t really go well with depression. It’s hard to see beyond this darkness, to loosen the grip of those feelings of hurt and betrayal. Wondering how I can stay breathing let alone find a way out, but instead of a way out of this deep hole, the dirt is being kicked back on top, slowly smothering me, burying me alive. So much has been lost, stripped away without concern for any consequences that have been bestowed upon me. 

It’s still so hard to understand. Ghosted. The silence seems so unconscionable, making it all seem unreal. The tears still coming in uncontrollable waves, unable to find comfort for myself. Isolated and invisible, how I or any of my parts don’t really matter. How life has proved to me over and over that my choices only bring pain and hurt. Worthless. Undeserving of anything good. Sentenced to suffering. 

I try to keep fighting but where has that got me? Right back to the bottom of it all…back to being alone with myself, crying in the dark. A place I have so come to despise, a place of self torture and self sabotage. The people I allow into my life just add to my burdens, my pain. 

How will I ever trust anyone ever again, myself, my Self, included. What you have taken from me. What I allowed to be taken from me. I can’t go back. I can’t seem to find any way forward. I’m broken down and stalled on a path that at one time seemed so full of hope but now no longer even exists. Lost in it, wondering if it was all bullshit or if anything was real. Actions always reveal the truth when your words have disappointed with deceit. Come closer, trust me said the spider to the fly. 

Not much left as my reality has started to set in. Violated in so many ways. Still shocked by the betrayal. More stunned by the silence. Was I used, just an interesting subject to probe, to play with my emotions and alter my life with yet another abandonment? I didn’t deserve this but it’s what I got. It’s what I always end up with. Fucked and left alone. 

This has absolutely totally crushed and destroyed me and I don’t know how I can even begin to recover. I know I need help but can I really ask for it let alone accept it? How can I ever trust another therapist when this one hurt so deep? How will I be able to even consider when I can’t even trust my own ability to do good for myself? The only outcome I ever get is more struggle and pain. Is my message I’m too much and just can’t be helped as that is all I can hear. 

What did I do wrong again? Why keep trying? More tears. Time doesn’t heal. It just keeps torturing me. I’ve been so distraught I find it hard to get out of bed now. Self care is almost non existent with only the bare minimum being accomplished. I don’t know how much lower I can go. One day they will win. I’m trying to stay kind but it hurts so much. So tired. No relief in sight. 

If I don’t care does any of this matter….

Double I

2.24.25

Invisible and Isolated

 Not Noticed or Acknowledged: Invisible

 It’s been two weeks filled with many lows and lots of unknowns. I’m still trying to recover from the shock of it all, so much unexpected, that I’m just now starting to take notice of how much is really involved. Just being aware of how big my feelings are, gave me a clue into how widespread and massive this wound is. So all encompassing when you give your total trust to someone and it’s betrayed in ways you’d never imagine. Devastated to the point of being frozen, unable to make sense of it all. Of course, no answers just silence, which is incredibly confusing itself. 

This has been my first week of choosing to live the double I life. It’s so easy to do in these times. So many people walking around in their own world, never noticing what’s happening around them, oblivious to anything other than their own current reality. Hundreds of people in a store yet no one acknowledges any other. The scripted “did you find everything OK and thanks for shopping with us” during check out are the only words exchanged during my outing. After I leave, no one really knows or cares that I was here. Imagine how many of us invisible people have the same every day. 

I realized that as long as I pay my bills, retrieve my mail from my mail box, and keep my yard tidy, no one will notice me in any other way. No one calls me, messages me, or emails me. I’m off social for the most part as the daily news from DC is too full of hate. I have no commitments or appointments to get to, no real schedule to follow. Not one person will take note or be affected by my invisibility; my withdrawal from socializing. 

This speaks to my aloneness. People always question me in disbelief when I say I have no one. A few years ago I was at some workshop and the exercise we were being asked to do was to make two lists. One with the names of all the people you love and the other of the people who love you. It was difficult to look at my paper as there was very little on it. 

Most of my people on both my lists are deceased. And the few that are living have limited space for me in their life. In other words, conditions must be accepted. This speaks to all the different kinds of love but also shows me what I am and am not willing to accept from and about others.

At my age where do I find a friend let alone any kind of love? I don’t work, I don’t belong to clubs, I don’t go out. Connection sucks for me and being let down by the one person I trusted has made a case in my brain for this double I life: to quit trying and just retreat. I try so hard to connect but my internal bullshit meter Bodine must be delusional as how do we not see it coming. How do I allow myself to keep getting fucked up by others? 

I only have myself. No other support currently available. That’s not enough and I know it but I don’t see another way. I’m so tired. Will I fall and not get up? The tears are still falling. To believe someone really cared. Actions speak louder than words.  It hurts to be abandoned. I might as well just keep hiding in plain sight. I have to find some fucks to give. Right now that’s an empty bucket. It’s hard enough to reach out but rarely is anyone out there willing to reach in. When they do, they just make me bleed. Closing those Castle doors. 

It’s easy to be a double I…

NOT caring about each other has sadly been normalized. People just don’t fucking care. Truth! 

2.21.25

Kindness Matter

Kindness Matters

^ Click on pic to read ^

Do your best to come from a place of kindness. Be aware of the influences you have and do no harm. 

Trying to make sense of why…..

Living the Double I Life; Isolated and Invisible

2.19.25

Invisible

Invisible

 I wonder how many of us are living invisibly in plain sight. It’s so easy to do in this day and age as no one notices, no one cares much about anything around them. Everyone existing in their own reality oblivious to others.

For the past 45 years I’ve lived in a city of 6 million plus. I’ve been in my home for 39 years. My lawn and garden used to be such pride and joy but that has all disappeared. First my schedule and now my health has changed all that. Now all that people see is things looking old and disheveled, seemingly uncared for. No one has any thoughts of asking why or if they can help, but instead just laugh and call names, a crazy old cat lady. Looking away, looking aside, unnoticing of what may be truly happening, or that help might needed. Name less and face less, just living in a house on a street in a big city. The definition of neighbor is unknown. 

I’m giving in, trying to find a way. A new way. A different way. Any way. Any place. A reprieve from my current state of reality. Connection feels like angry, bubbling lava with no escape from the burn. I have no translation for communication; all words coming and going seem foreign, unable to understand or be understood. What I thought was a true path disintegrated into dust and was swept away like it never existed, like I was non existent. I’m so tired of the struggles, being let down and hurt with no real place to rest, nothing, no one seems to help. Beating myself up because I can’t seem to help myself, to love my Self. Unable and unwilling to trust. Unsure whether I’m lost, blind, broken or just done.

Pain surrounds me. I feel unsafe in my own skin almost every minute of every day. Everything, every place, everyone is just a reminder of my inability and failure to exist in this world I find so cruel. I’ve never found a place to fit, to allow me as I am. They talk of finding your tribe but I must be on the wrong planet or in an alternate reality. There are no others on my path. It is mine alone. I’ve tried so hard. I’m tired. Wishing it was all an illusion or even a delusion. 

I’m done trying for now. I am done searching. Reaching out has not been successful. I have very little left in my tank. My heart is not whole but instead full of holes, unhealed and bleeding. Defeated and discouraged, I am retreating, becoming one of the invisibles, fading into the surroundings, hidden away in plain slight. Broken and forgotten after giving every ounce I’ve ever had to everyone else. Kicked again and again while down. My wounds are large and raw; unseen and misunderstood. 

Hope is elusive. I used to have some holders of hope but are any still out there? That thought brings the most sadness. Healing is fleeting. An unsolved mystery. It takes so much to stay, to be here solo, but it’s all I’ve got. The uncertainty of it all for me right now is less scary than the exhaustion of the struggle. Will the knock out be next? Low on options. Running out of resources. 

Maybe I can locate some rest. Not sure where. No plan. Alone with my thoughts. Friends or foes? No one gets it. No one hears. Darkest side of the moon. My dear Lola, my depression. Who else is appearing? I will just shut them all out but they always come back. Fuck. 

Look around and if you want 

you will see 

all the invisible people

just as me. 

Alone seems my only choice. Living life in silence. Preparation. I often wonder: Is it quiet when you die? 

2.17.25

 

Recovery

Recovery

It’s been a truly challenging February in every way I can possibly think of. So many unexpected twists and turns. All those shattered pieces and parts staring at me and I realize I need to take a step back so I don’t get cut any deeper  and cause any additional uproar in my system, an ugly bleeding riot. 

Each day that passes brings awareness of how much this has changed for me; so much no longer there or unable to trust the validity of what I do find. So many questions with no answers moving forward. My dear Cog - who, what, when, where, how? Oh these parts of mine.  

I’m thankful and proud of myself for reviving and creating the habit of writing on this blog again. Yes I’m old but not as fluffy. Yes it’s more of a personal journal with thoughts and opinions but being honest with myself I use it to call myself out on things. To put things online where anyone can see has a certain power.  I like to say you use what you got. For me this blog is something I’ve got, something that’s mine. You learn to be creative when you only have yourself. 

I still have other journals I keep of course. Sharing all your deepest darkest things with anyone takes time. I am feeling the need to retreat, to focus on my grief and loss in a different way. I’m going to call it a cocoon. This image below represents so well what I feel, the pull of isolation, what my parts are needing. 

I will be honoring my need for cocooning. I will make certain I’m not making this a self prison as I often can revert to. This is not that but instead a time for rest and reflection in order to move forward. Safety is so elusive for me. That’s rarely understood or honored by others. 

 I’m not OK, but I’m managing . I’ll be back. Could be sooner. Could be later. Just not sure. 

 Me, myself, and I.

 A solo journey in the dark. When I reach out no one is there. 

 Valentines Day. The day of love. Devoid. 

2.14.25

Betrayal

^ Click on pic to read ^

 2.13.25 No other words today. 

Shattered

Shattered

I don’t know how to begin to pick up the pieces of what’s happened. It’s so massive. After I figure that out I need to try to figure out how to put them back together. It’s a huge undertaking and I know I can’t do it alone. Cases of bandaids won’t come close. I’m afraid of what I won't be able to get back

Why are relationships so complicated? Why does it have to hurt so much. I find myself often saying I don’t care. In some cases that’s true. I do find it difficult to care about myself in all ways that I need to. I’m thinking that my real issue is I actually care too much. I have focused all my energy on caring for and about others and have not filled my own heart needs for far too long. It’s empty and rusty, still here taking a beating. I care so much for others but when I try to care for myself with others, my outcome seems to always be pain. 

I wonder how I just don’t accept this as my destiny- to live life alone and unsupported. It happens to me over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over…you get the point.

People Equal Pain. PEP.

As I sit here thinking about just how many different things in my life this has affected, how enormous it all is for me, I shed more tears. While I’m thankful for these real feelings dripping from the corners of my eyes, I will ask did I really need a lesson this hard to make them flow? That’s always been my way…the hard fucking way. 

This heart of mine is still leaking. I’m doing all I can. But it’s just plain hard. Trying my best to keep all my pieces and parts contained until we can figure it out. Broken trust. Hurting. 

2.11.25

 

Unexpected

Unexpected 

Life can be so fucking cruel. My life has been like a roller coaster for quite some time now. I ride the ups and downs even at their extremes. I have been finding all the bumps in my way, planning how to smooth them out and create more balance for myself. 

The last three years my journey has not been alone. I have had the support from a therapist. She has shown up for me like no other and after much work I put my total faith and trust in her. It felt good. There was no reason to doubt. It’s hard to confront yourself but having someone to guide you along the way makes the journey possible.

This week, the car flew off the track. It wasn’t just damaged but totally destroyed. She took that trust, crushed it into a million confusing pieces and abandoned me. 

This isn’t a post to bash my therapist. It’s a post about being let down and hurt. I realize her actions were not intentional towards me but it doesn’t make the consequences I have to deal with any less. 

I would’ve never imagined that the one person who should know how influential they can be, how much damage they can create, would be the one who adds to my pain. It’s a total betrayal of my trust. It’s the same old story for me. I let people in and they hurt me and leave. I don’t wonder why I don’t like connection. My truth: People equal pain. 

It’s only been a few days since I found out that I was being abandoned. It’s been so heavy, so hurtful. The impact is immense as this not only affects me right now, where I am, but it also affects my ability to move forward and find balance or any healing. All that work gone, left to start over on my own. Just when I truly believe there is a path for me to follow, it all goes away. 

Now I have deal with all these questions swirling around my mind about what was actually real. It’s hard to see that any of it was right now. The action of this abandonment has such large consequences in my life. How do I move forward when I can’t trust?

I’ve shed many tears. Still have many more to come. I rarely am able to cry. This is just one thing telling me the depth of this betrayal is beyond most anything else. It only compares with my betrayal of my Self at age 17. I haven’t forgiven myself in 48 years. I don’t know how long this will take. 

I get that hurting others can’t always be avoided. Our choices for ourselves will sometimes not align with what others need. If you truly care about someone, you should make sure that you lessen the impact of your actions on them. 

Unfortunately, that’s not what I got. A direct hit to my heart. To my future. To my life. 

I dont know how long it may take me to move forward from this. I will try to be patient with myself. I will try to not pressure myself. Right now I’m just feeling the grief and loss that comes with the hurt of being so let down. You could’ve done better for me. You should’ve done better for me. 

2.9.25. Such a heavy feeling this broken heart. 💔 

Collateral Damage

Collateral Damage

Devastated 

Broken. Bleeding. Alone. Heartbroken. Hopeless. Hurt Me. 

2.6.25

My Basket Broke

 Now what

My basket broke. Shes not coming back due to understandable circumstances but that doesn’t lessen the impact for me. I don’t know what I’m going to do now. Why should I keep trying when it’s the same result for me. Let down and abandoned. How will I trust again. I can’t keep putting myself through this. It’s too painful to think of starting over. I know I need help but to find it is a different story. 

Undeserving. Discouraged. Defeated. Heartbroken. Crushed. Sad. Disbelief. Confused. 

Truly ALONE. No real hope today. Lost. DEVASTATED 

2.5.25

Alone and So Empty

Alone and So Empty 

The roller coaster ride of depression can be so frustrating. It fights against most anything that might shine a light. Today seems ever so familiar and I find myself back into the basement, in the darkness, bombarded with the tortuous voices of the past.

Yesterday was actually a good day. I went for a float in the morning and I collected on an hour with an IFS coach that I had amazingly been chosen as the winner. Floating for me is always so wonderful. I know if I can get myself there it will benefit me greatly- body and mind. I work hard to fight the challenges of not wanting to engage with others on the way. I find strategies I am able to use to get me from my car to my tank room and back to my car in a safe doable way for me. 

The coaching hour was so surprising. What I mean is she was really a fantastic practitioner. My parts and I fully enjoyed our engagement with her. She was so very perceptive and kind. That she was able to hold space for all the parts that showed up was amazing for me in own it’s right. It certainly was wonderful to be able to have an hour of conversation with and about parts and be fully engaged without question. If I’m being honest, I would have to say for me and my parts, she was the best IFS connection I have ever encountered and I was so appreciative of the time she spent with me. Maybe coaching will be something helpful in the future and I wouldn’t hesitate to go back to her. Right now, dealing with my shadows, a trained therapist is needed. 

This morning I woke up feeling so much sadness. We are feeling so alone right now, hurting, feeling abandoned and also desperate but for what is unknown. I’m trying to fight it but it is hard to always welcome this despair. The voices that come with it are so cruel. The Squad in full force. Just die you fat and ugly piece of shit. You suck. You aren’t worth the air you breathe. You deserve everything that comes your way. Come closer and let us push you off the edge and end it all for you- you’ll feel better then. Temptress. 

Just a few of the lovely conversations that happen in Harshland, my internal reality. They scare the fuck out of me because they are right when they say they offer me a solution. Death definitely ends this all. All the pain and struggle will cease. There is zero doubt in my mind about that. 

I have an entire crew that pushes me towards death. I understand what they are saying and have come close to listening on a few occasions. They may win one day. I asked my therapist once if she ever thought suicide was rational. She said she understood that this gave relief to those who had so much pain and suffering. I so appreciate honesty of that depth from anyone. You can’t really understand unless you’ve lived it within yourself or walked beside another on their journey in this fucked up dark black hole called depression. 

The desire and parts that want to live are different than the part that doesn’t want to live or the part that wants to die, the depressed part, the self sabotaging part. They are very challenging and so far I have been able to resist their final offerings. I’m not always going to be strong enough. If I’m not feeling it I won’t push it but instead I will just avoid and distract because what if they win. 

What does that mean for me. Currently I don’t find my life pleasant. No joy. Nothing I see that makes me want to keep fighting. I wake and am often disappointed that I’m still here. I try to find ways to make the day go by with the least amount of shit and get back to bed where I will hope I naturally dont wake up. Then it starts all over again.

Lately, the hours during the day where TV or reading or journaling just doesn’t help are spent putting substances in my body to escape, to pass out, to not cope with my reality. The month of January my chemical disassociation has been excessive and out of the norm for me. I am acutely aware. But drugs have been my only friend. It keeps me here for now. It fits my pattern of poor choices in friends. They all feel good in the beginning but hurtful in the long run. I just don’t have any other answers right now that I’m capable of coming up with on my own. No passion for life, no joy, little hope. My life is a fucking mess and I don’t how to make it any different, any better. 

This being in limbo is hard. I am struggling and I know I need help but I’m not sure where that will come from. I have no confirmation if or when my current therapist will return. I decided to reach out and I’m hoping for a response. I feel selfish for asking but I really need to have an answer. 

Feeling so very alone right now. I still hate connection. The good encounters of yesterday only made me crash hard today and there is no one else here with me to lend support so I don’t fall. I fight to keep the world out because when I let them in they hurt me, they all hurt me. Reality sucks. 

When will I just give in. All the people who love me have gone to the other side. Days like today make it seem I will join sooner rather than later. Depression brain sucks. 

Day 36. Still very alone. 

I don’t think anyone is out there? It sure would be great for you to say hello. My heart is hurting a lot today. 

What “friend” will I choose to journey with today? The stash box is full. 

2.4.25

Comfortably Numb

 

COMFORTABLY NUMB 

There are times she feels so alone

Trying to do this thing called living

Aimlessly she wanders and roams

A path that's rocky and unforgiving

There are times she wants to quit

She's trying so hard to rid her depression

It isn't easy she must admit 

Sometimes she feels it's her only possession 

She is so comfortable feeling this way

A familiar place to be 

And sometimes she would rather stay

In the dark, instead of free

Some people just don't understand

When you've been through trauma and pain

It doesn't matter who holds your hand

Things will never be the same

© Janelle Erin Elizabeth Peters all rights reserved 2021 

ISO Day 33. Status of aloneness is unchanged

2.1.25