And trying to recover.
I spent the end of the week/early weekend in meetings, but a very generous friend let me crash her cottage, so other than feed myself and show up on time, I had no responsibilities. It was glorious. There was a lot of wine. And it was enough of a quiet space that by Sunday I was back in the middle of digging through the piles of trauma I haven’t yet sorted out.
I disassociate. I don’t get my heart involved but hide behind going through the motions. I fear something as yet unnamed.
The insight from my therapist this morning hit me hard. It was rough to hear what she had to say. I cried a lot. Lately I cry a lot in therapy. But beneath the tears I was happy, because hard as it is, this is what I want. I want to heal, even if it hurts.
It has taken a long time for me to be able to step back from a trigger and process through why it happened, what it brought up, where it came from and how to separate the emotions of the trigger from what I know to be real.
But I did it tonight.
More than that, I called the person who was part of the trigger and explained what had happened, what I was experiencing and what they could do to help me.
I’m so thankful that was a positive experience, and I went from spinning in negativity to resolving the issue calmly and in a way that built trust.
It was a huge leap to be willing to not only address the trigger head on, but to let another person help me calm down. It was a leap of trust in myself.
I trusted myself.
I’ve made it to therapy maybe 3 times in the last two months. Before that I was thinking it might be time to stop therapy. Well, it’s not.
This morning I had to face unprocessed grief, missing out on triumph, losing opportunities, being financially stressed because I’ve put time into my family instead of my work, and not mattering enough to that same family for them to take the severity of my mental illness seriously.
I cried a lot, I kept crying when I left, I cried to my boyfriend when I got home, then I took a long nap.
I used to go home and sleep after therapy when I first started going, because it was so intense and exhausting. Today was like that.
On the up side, it was enough for my mom to see that I’m about to be the next family crisis. Nothing is changing overnight, and I don’t expect it to, but she’s committed to finding a different option for grandma that doesn’t require my involvement.
I need time and space to finish grieving so I can heal. I need time to practice healthy behaviors. I really need less cortisol so I can finally lose the trauma weight and hopefully some of the anxiety.
But hanging in there in the meantime is hard, y’all.