Emails and not okay

I emailed Bea on Thursday night. I knew she had training all weekend, and that she might not be able to email me back, but I was so alone and lost and confused and there felt like there was so much I hadn’t said in our session. 

So….things went like I said— go home, clean, get ready for Kat’s party, be okay, be fine because that is what I always am. Except for driving home. I cried the whole way home. It was those tears you just can’t shove down, no matter how hard you try. And about halfway home, I recognized this feeling…this crying, everything wrong, failing at life, messing everything up, can’t do anything right, too many bad feelings, overwhelmed and scared, can’t breathe or think and just want it all to stop feeling. It’s a feeling of being a little kid, alone and scared and vulnerable and really wanting mommy to come and fix it all— like I said this morning. But it’s also a teenage feeling, that desperate, overwhelmed, I need to fix this but can’t because I don’t know how or where to even start, so someone please fix it for me, and make it all stop. And I remember feeling like this, and the person I always went to when I was a teen and felt this way was Bethany– my aunt. And then she left. So I couldn’t go to her anymore. So there was no one. And then later, in college and after, Kay was the person I went to. But she left, too. I wanted to call her so badly today, driving home. But she is not here anymore. She left me. I did text her on her birthday, sent her a message that basically said I hope she was having a happy birthday. Nothing major. She texted back, asking me to please respect her wishes to be left alone. So. That was Wednesday. The day after the doctor appointment. Like I said, it was a bad week. 

Lots of loss and abandonment coming up. I’m sorry I didn’t know about Kay and the birthday text. That is sad and very tough because she’s taken away your voice. I’m very sorry to hear that!

It really isn’t “just” the doctor appointment and needing to write a letter. It’s…I don’t know what, exactly, I can’t put my finger on it. It’s just this feeling of needing everything to stop, to go away, to disappear. I don’t want to feel, I don’t want to think, I just want everything gone. Maybe, on some level, this is all about identity. I’m not angry, or defiant, over this. I’m scared. I DON’T know who I am. I’m afraid to try to even find out… just feels like whoever I am, beyond my perfect and nice and happy facade, is going to be ugly. Or maybe there is nothing there. That’s just as scary. I don’t know. 

Basically it’s about the okay part and the not okay part. The okay part has thrived because it avoids the not okay part at all costs. When stuff like the doctor happens the okay part is forced to share space with its foe. This is scary and confusing and not okay. No wonder your identity feels messed up. As we work through these things, however, they become less separate and unintegrated. You move towards health. We are on the right track with what we are doing. We may have more parts to touch base with is all.

There is an angry part…but it’s not what I’m feeling mostly. And when I do start to feel angry over how I’m feeling right now, it’s like that feeling you get when you barely miss being in a car accident or something. That like, heart pounding in your throat, stomach dropping, can’t breathe, anxious and scared feeling. That’s how I feel about this mad. It’s scary. And I don’t know what or who I’m mad at, or why, or where it is coming from. But it’s not okay. And it makes me scared and anxious. 

We’ve talked about there being a “fight” part. It wouldn’t necessarily feel directed at someone–just your defensive reaction to being activated.

We go to my parents on Saturday. What I wish, and what can never happen, is to just sit and cry with my mom, and for her to just let me cry and be upset and wrap her arms around me and let me cry as much as I need to, and tell her nothing is okay, and everything is wrong, and that I just need it all to stop, and then for her to tell me it will be okay and to have her fix it. But it’s stupid to feel that way, to want that. Because she wouldn’t fix it, she can’t— it would just be more secrets and lies to cover up all the bad stuff. And we don’t hug like that in my family. We give quick little, almost one arm hugs to say hello or goodbye, but we don’t just hug someone to hold them and let them cry. Not even when my grandpa died did anyone do that. It’s just not done. They aren’t touchy feely people. Even when I was little. It’s just not how things are. And crying is something to be stopped, to be distracted from, to end it as quickly as possible. Ugh. I don’t know. It is what it is. 

I think it’s good that you want that–to be held and to be comforted. That is the “attachment cry” part that I learned about tonight. Attachment is an important resource. I wish you could have that with your mom too. I’ll bet you will get some sense of it this weekend in your interactions with her, even if not as much as you are craving.

And really, you did offer to write a letter to my doctor, so that would fix that part of the problem. So I shouldn’t really even be crying over wanting someone to fix it. But I’m not 5. I’m not a little kid, I shouldn’t always need someone else to “fix” things for me. So as much as part of me really wants to say, yes, just write a letter, fix it, I don’t want to deal with this, make it better, part of me just can’t, because it feels too much like being an adult acting like a child. And I did enough of that already at that awful appointment. Ugh. 

We can tell the 5 year old that there is a grown up part ready to take action. 

17 thoughts on “Emails and not okay

  1. Sometimes you really do just need to be held and contained and safe while you cry and it feels almost impossible to survive and keep going without it. I’m so sorry you don’t have that.

    I struggle with the need to “be a grown up” too – can never figure out whether the healthy thing to do is to take the support or do it myself. I wonder if maybe you could meet in the middle and she could write a letter and you could write another shorter letter to go with it? To take the pressure off you a little?

    Liked by 1 person

    • If I would let myself, I could maybe have someone to hold me while I cry. I think hubby would do that. I’m just too….I don’t know. I can’t open myself up to the idea that it’s okay, and it might be okay.

      Being a grown up….ugh. That’s how I feel about it. Ugh. It’s hard to figure out. I ended up writing a letter and sending it. And my doctor wrote back and I’m more confused and unsure and scared than before. And I might ask Bea to wrote a letter in response to my doctor’s letter. That’s not a bad idea, for us each to write a letter. I also had the thought that just having her write the letter, even if I don’t ever send it, might feel like I’m being more supported or something. It might remove some of the aloneness and fear. πŸ’Ÿ

      Liked by 1 person

      • I think that’s a great idea, to have her write a letter regardless of whether you decide to send it or not. It could be very validating to see in a concrete way that somebody understands your experience and is ready to advocate on your behalf.


      • It could be really good, it sounds really good, to see in that concrete way that someone will advocate on my behalf. But I am in this weird space, this scared little girl space and I can’t ask for that right now.


      • That’s totally okay and so understandable. Keeping an open mind to even considering it as an option? That’s awesome. The little girl doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to do.


  2. Sirena says:

    I understand needing to just cuddle into someone safe and cry. Its awful to crave it and have nowhere to get it. I’m glad Bea was able to keep in contact with you. I understand also that difficulty with good/bad. It’s very uncomfortable to accept our shadow side. But it does get better eventually.


  3. I long for a mother to hold me while I cry so much that it’s excruciating. Glad you were able to work through some of this so honestly over email.


  4. I agree with me, your attachment needs are coming “online” (this is something my therapist has said to me before) which actually seems really healthy and hopeful – though I know it feels REALLY not okay.


  5. I know that feeling well, of wanting to be tucked in and have someone take control and tell you it will be alright and have it really be true, they really really will make it alright. It is so hard to make yourself vulnerable by sharing that – and a lot easier in writing than out loud πŸ™‚


    • It’s a feeling I still get often. I’m sorry you know it, as it is a painful feeling in so many ways, yet I’m grateful to have people who understand. And it’s so much easier to write vulnerable things. Some thing about speaking them makes it feel more real. πŸ’Ÿ

      Liked by 1 person

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