Ten days

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. 

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Grief is a bitch

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?

2:30 am

…& 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.