I said to my therapist last week that I wanted capture the ‘lightning in a bottle’ after feeling proud of myself for doing something outside my comfort zone on Wednesday. I think I naively thought that I could hold on to that feeling.
I’ve said more than a few times over the last three months that I haven’t had suicidal thoughts. That’s true but more accurately I should say I haven’t had thoughts of self-harm. The thought of harming myself chills me. That said, sometimes I still find myself not wanting to be here.
I seem to be in a kind of nowhere, sleepwalking between different things to do. Sometimes i’m doing fine and I can see that things will be okay, but other times everything just feels meaningless. My therapist says that I fill my days with obligations and I think that’s true. That’s no bad thing but how I tear myself down when I don’t meet them is. I’m still figuring out how to stop doing that.
I didn’t feel guilty immediately after but now I do. I know how cold it sounds to say I didn’t want to be here – that I wanted to leave everyone – and to admit that sometimes I still have those thoughts. I just spent all weekend with my family and the thought I kept coming back to was the guilt over choosing to leave them. I felt like an outsider looking in.
I’ve discussed ‘telling my story’ with my therapist on several occasions as my relationship with what happened has evolved. I agree that it’s an important part of my recovery and relaunching my blog is partly to provide a space for that. But there are things I can’t talk about because you’re not supposed to: I can’t say that when my skin naturally warms it reminds me of the heat of my own blood. I can’t say that I sometimes rub my arm because it hurts from the weight it had to carry. I can’t say that I feel a twinge of remembered pain.
When I do, I feel guilty for saying anything. There are much bigger problems in the world than what I’m dealing with, some of them closer to home. Of course, people tell me you can’t compare problems and I say the same, but I don’t really believe it. I downplay my position and my experience. I always have. I guess that’s part of the problem. I don’t want to take up any space.
I’m getting messages at the moment from acquaintances who have no idea what I’ve been through, chasing me about meet ups and other things. I don’t blame them but the urgency of their messages does anger me. I find myself wanting to slow down. So many things are moving too fast for me at the moment. I’m trying to practice mindfulness and reconnect with quiet moments. The world is too loud for me right now.
A friend said to me last week that they hoped I had a plan for the dark days. That knocked me off my axis because I thought I was doing okay. I haven’t had dark days since, not really, or so I thought. I thought I was ‘doing well’, not realising that I was once again setting a standard that I had to meet and not really thinking about what I would do if I didn’t.
My therapy comes to an end after the next three sessions. I’m going to continue but there’s an enforced three month break between the free provision and pursuing it out of my own pocket. My therapist and I are going to discuss what plans might look like. Not necessarily a crisis plan, but plans for the future. I don’t know what is more scary at the moment: not knowing what my future holds or trying to imagine what a possible future might look like.