Group today, the monthly meeting for survivors. Tops off a long week of various workshops and groups. To say I’m exhausted is an understatement. I’m also feeling fed up. Fed up with all the hard work it takes to work on myself and process knowledge that I’m acquiring. The changing, the grief, the confusion. I can’t talk to anyone, I don’t want to talk to anyone. 

Yesterday we had a family day out, we went to Martinborough which is just beautiful and had lunch at the James Murdoch winery 

I wanted to engage with my family, but I’m feeling so torn about the interaction with S. Physically I want to touch him, I miss affection, I miss our ‘inside’ jokes and being a ‘unit.’ But instead we’re just tolerating each other. It feels hard.

When we got home, or should I say, the house, I felt so tired. I wanted to stay in the light, the warmth, the chaos and love of my family but I knew I didn’t belong. I decided to leave for my house before I got too comfortable. I got down the road and broke into tears. I missed my family. I’d wanted to spend the weekend with them. I’d planned on spending the long weekend with them. I wanted the noise in the morning, the people around me. So I phoned S and asked if I could stay the night. He was a bit confused as I’d only just left! I explained I missed everyone and wanted to be there, he answered that I’d see everyone in the morning. I took that as an immediate rejection. Pride taking over, I wasn’t going to beg or plead my case. But he offered that I could stay if I wanted. 

I did return. Although S was getting a bit fed up with the kids, I didn’t mind the constant goings on. But I felt disconnected and unable to really partake. I hate feeling like a stranger in my own home.

By night I slept on the couch. Or tried to. My son was really upset and confused that I was on the sofa. He was still awake late into the night. He rushed back and forth between the bedroom and the living room. Confused, wanting to make sense of the situation. In the end I went into the bedroom. S was half asleep, I told him that Harry wouldn’t settle, so best we all slept in the same bed. Harry slept in my arms, which was painful for my shoulder but I absolutely adored his warmth and beautiful soundless sleep.

This morning I was very disconnected. I was, I suppose, preparing for the group. Usually I’d discuss my concerns and fears with S but that’s crossing a boundary. I realise that now. 

At the group I grew miserable with the depressing atmosphere. People stuck in the same situations. The sense of pity overwhelming. I know, I’m a total hypocrite. But my situation isn’t the same. I’m going through a painful separation, I’m feeling vulnerable, afraid, alone. And in my vulnerability are painful memories and unspoken truths. It’s confronting. So although my irritation manifested with others in the group, really I’m annoyed at my own weaknesses, my own shortcomings, my own anxieties, my own triggers. 

As its winter now, the evening drew in and the room was enveloped in darkness. Everyone liked it, except me. The dark is my enemy, it’s smothering, relentless and unsafe. I was in a corner too, so felt trapped. I picked up my phone and read through the news articles. Taking respite in the light and the distraction.

After the group, the facilitator and I had a quick debrief at my initiation. The facilitator is my therapist, that’s how I met her. She knew I’d disconnected. She also sensed my irritation. I asked, why do I feel like this? She explained that it’s ok, that I have a lot going on. That there’s safety is disconnecting and I’d chosen that and it just happens some time.

I drove home feeling like I was in a bubble. Part of me thought I should just head back to my house. Be alone with it. But I’d wanted to spend the long weekend with the kids. I got back to the light, the warmth and the chaos that I so desperately seek out. But I feel overwhelmed. S is moody because he’s sick of dealing with the kids. I suspect he feels fed up that they’re not at my house with me, giving him some time to rest. I understand that. 

I have so much going on with these workshops that he’s taking on more responsibility with the kids. This will ultimately lead towards more resentment to me.

Then I feel resentment because he’s so easily shut down and won’t talk to me about boundaries or his feelings.

It’ll be interesting to see what comes out in the couples therapy on Tuesday. I really hope he partakes in it. I think we can both learn a lot. And certainly we need to communicate with each other better.

I’m still feeling completely out of it. I’ve only just realised that I’m hungry. I’m only just conscience that I’m cold. Physically I’ve not been ‘in’ my body. My mind has retreated. I know there is such sadness in my disappointment from today, and disappointment that I can’t debrief with S about the group. About my feelings.

The journey continues….


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