Bea and I spent most of Monday and Tuesday emailing; her trying to show me she understood how bad I was feeling and reassure that she was there and not leaving and very much herself, and me crying about how bad I felt and how much Bea didn’t feel like Bea.
Bea wondered if these feelings are a part that didn’t know her, if maybe that was why she didn’t feel like Bea to me. Once she said it, that felt obvious to me. Yes, this is a part. So we wrote back and forth but nothing felt very understood at all. In fact, I felt more alone than ever.
I spent a lot of time on Tuesday sitting in the hot tub and journaling. My hot tub is my covid birthday gift this year. It’s nothing fancy, just a blow up one, but hubby set it up in the garage with my porch swing and a pink rug and twinkle lights and curtains that let me close out the rest of the world. I love it. So I hid in my hot tub and journaled. I took photos of a journal page and sent it to Bea. Until that point, I think she was there, and wanted to help, but just couldn’t find her way in, past my walls, and I couldn’t find words to say how I felt, or find a way to let her in, but once she read that journal page and was able to say that she thought she understood, things changed a little. I felt like maybe she might really be there even if I couldn’t feel it.
Journal page sent to Bea.
Bea wrote back:
Alice,
I understand this part now, I think. She seems like a frozen in place part from the It’s Over/It’s Not Over memory that’s so unbearably emotionally overwhelming. I’m glad you wrote all of the nuances of the thoughts and feelings from that time. It was good for me, too, to see it all written out. I guess this part simply exists to hold this most awful batch of feelings—and no wonder it feels so lonely. She may not know anyone else at all:(
Bea
I responded to her pretty late:
That makes me feel better. Can you help her now? Because I can’t help her. She’s too strong. Her feeling are too strong. This feels like it can never be fixed, will never be better, will never stop hurting. I don’t know how much longer I can feel this way, can do this. I wrote one of my email responses a lot of times because I just needed to edit out all of my too muchness. But this part, these feelings it’s just too much for me to handle. I’m afraid of it all.
Even though it was late, Bea responded that she would try to help in the morning and that this part being so frozen made a lot of sense to her.
I went to bed holding onto the fact that Bea understood and wasn’t going anywhere.
Falling down the rabbit hole 