My daughter is finally back at school full time after all the trouble with her arm. Poor thing. It’s still a struggle for her. Of course part of me could keep her at home and nurture her and care for her, wait on her, but she needs her confidence back and frankly I can barely look after myself these days. I’m drained to my very core.
I have the symptoms of a cold, but it’s something I get when I feel completely stressed out and my body is struggling.
I had therapy yesterday. Yet again this woman saw right into me and got to my very core. I broke down and sobbed which is incredibly unusual for me. I talked about my loneliness, my fears, not being understood, my obsessions with keeping safe, my mood swings and how I am around my husband. Almost with a childlike fear at times. Needing more support, but not being able to articulate what I need or how I need it.
She used her experiences and to hear how similar her feelings were was such a huge relief. I almost wanted to shout and grab her, YES YES YES!! YOU GET ME! But I restrained myself. I feel very connected to her. Her examples are bang on, her knowledge and experience are a mirror of my own. It’s impossible not to cry when I hear my own thoughts being said out loud back to me, but with reassurance that it can be broken down and changed. That I can be healthy again. I feel a glimmer of hope, if only for a short time.
I’ve heard from my lawyer that the offender has received his summons now. First to the magistrates to make a plea then it goes to the High Court. The news, although expected still sends ice down my spine. The memories so clear in my mind. The fear, the lack of the control. The spinning towards the edge of a cliff. I want justice, I deserve to be heard. But equally I’m scared of the process. I’m scared of him, his family and just how much more strength and focus is required from me.
After my therapy I met up with two women I’ve become friends with from the support group. We went to the women’s centre and drank tea in front of the fire. It was a true highlight for me. We all know each other’s pain, we can talk about that or the most mundane things. It feels easy, comfortable. Safe. Unlike my usual routine of heading home to bed.
I’m tired. I say that often. But I’m not just generally tired. I’m exhausted and drained. I live two parallel lives. One where I’m mother, do laundry, tidy, etc and when that’s done I’m living in my past. There is an inner child in me that’s scared all the time. Confused, wanting to reach out but not sure who to.
I live with such anxiety all the time. I hardly sleep at night. I don’t do much, and yet I seem to be living the life of a thousand brains.
I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to live in this pergutory. I wish to enjoy and appreciate my life. But I’m the one holding myself back I get that. How messed up is that??