ten days until the psycho arrives. Ten days. I’m hoping that I don’t completely lose my shit. I think I have a lot of boundaries in place, but God only knows. Anxiety is crazy ridiculous, more than usual.
Haven’t see her in awhile, maybe some holiday last year? There’s always drama. Always. I can’t control her though. I want things to be better – I want things that I’ll never have. A healthy mommy that doesn’t hurt me. Or, a healthy mom who is in counseling and working on her own shit. I doubt that’ll ever happen.
She’s out of control. She and I have a very codependent relationship. Deep seeted abuse that finally ended in my early 20s. The secrets that only very few know about.
I’ll be so fucking pissed if she makes a scene at his wedding. I can’t control her though. I think if I keep talking about this tonight that I’ll drive myself crazy.
I need to have a concrete plan to keep myself safe and sane. I cannot let this trip jeopardize my recovery.
there, I said it. We all grieve I many different ways. Even as an introvert, I welcome (most) conversation & cards. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, CARDS.
Neither here nor there. But what about the grief that no one sees? The grief that haunts, that wakes you up in the middle of the night questioning everything. Grieving and longing for what was and for what will never be.
I don’t cry often, but I feel (often many conflicting) things at once. Then the floodgates open. 31 years of shit. It just comes out. There’s anger, confusion, sadness, loneliness, rage…there’s isolation, yet all the while a deep longing for companionship.
Two friends lost their grandparents within days of each other. My heart just breaks. It shatters for them. For their loss, the aching pain that ebbs & flows. My ’empathy meter’ is high off the chart, exploding when someone close to me experiences a loss. Whether it’s a physical loss or an emotional one, a loss is a loss.
So, what’s a gain? How the hell to I know? Is a gain in the midst of a loss a tighter knit community? Is it a step forward? Finding even the smallest way to care for yourself? I don’t know.
This I know (even though I really struggle to believe it for myself): we are worthy of love and belonging. We matter. We live stories.
& this isn’t to be all woo-sah or whatever. But maybe it’s a tiny glimmer of hope?
…& I can’t sleep. Not even sure why I’m here writing. There’s so much to say, yet I’m not even sure how to say it. I haven’t opened my new journal. I’ve been talking, but not fully. Talking about the trauma shit, I mean.
WHY IS IT SO BAD LATELY?!?!! The flashbacks, the punitive bx (even tonight), the triggers. Just EVERYTHING. Therapist things it’s really bad right now because of the wedding in a few weeks.
Ugh. Glad I talked to J today and told her what’s really going on.
I miss local community. I need it. I crave it. Real honesty. Community from anywhere, really.
Need a hug.
i’ve been scared to blog. not entirely sure why. well. i do know why… so that last part is a lie. just feels like there are others to “compete with”… others that know more, that are more inspiring and encouraging, that write meaningful stuff. i feel like i just bitch too much. but, this is my space to write [other than my journals]. maybe it doesn’t measure up, but whatever. oh well.
another mother’s day has come and gone. same shit, different day. i feel numb. upset. indifferent. frustrated. uncertain. angry. sad. maybe evern happy? what the HELL?!?! WHO feels happy? trying not to judge it.
not entirely sure what’s up with my job. hoping for the best…..
well, with that, good night. i don’t know what else there is for me to say.
[and i need to be okay with that]
I’ve really been restless lately… Restless & lonely, I think. It’s often tough to celebrate others in certain social circles when you don’t feel celebrated yourself.
Recently it feels like I’m in a cave trying to communicate, but all that I hear is my own voice & echo.
I’m not even sure where to go from here.
I’m still awake, primarily because of anxiety. I read an article not too long ago on anxiety. Sometimes anxiety cannot be seen, while other times, it’s practically impossible to hide the anxiety.
It’s like a never ending hamster wheel…. Consistently going in circles every single damn day.
Thank god for a mindfulness app to aid in sleep. Let’s see how things pan out tonight…..
It’s 2 am. There’s too much going on.
I’m glad that my body is finally exhausted. My mind was there hours ago.
Hoping for sufficient rest.
May grace carry me through the tough time the past few weeks. I’m holding on & hopeful.
My soul is weary. Tired. Exhausted. Things feel uncertain. How I’m in need of fresh air- literally & figuratively.
Be still. Rest. Trust. Breathe.
“We were born to be alive, like we’re never giving in …. Just because it’s pouring down, doesn’t mean we’re going to drown …. Let it rain” – mat Kearney, ‘let it rain’
Loving Donald Miller’s new book, ‘scary close’. One of my favorite parts:
Wishing you grace & true connection in today.
I miss my old therapist. Her name is Tammy & she moved out of state to direct a well known ED tx center. I ended up seeing her based on the recommendation of an (ex) friend.
I’d never been so honest with someone in my entire life. Tammy’s fire-orange hair matched her eclectic personality. She spent time in the woods to decompress and embraced her Native American heritage through her office decor and time spent drumming.
She was the mother I never had. Someone so loving and caring, who sat with me as I cried, as I talked about things I hadn’t remembered, nevermind shared with anyone.
She’s inspired me to keep going, to keep pushing forward. I’ve told her numerous times that if I’m a fourth of the therapist that she is, I’ll be satisfied.
Don’t get me wrong- my new therapist (since Tammy moved away years ago) is simply amazing. Different from Tammy, but so wonderful.
I need to see her more often… The minimum is every other week. Damn, damn money. Things aren’t going so well, but I’m trying; literally one foot in front of the other.