How could you do that? You did the very thing that you KNEW I was the most afraid of.
Giving up on me.
You gave up on me.
I gave you something to read, hoping it would help you understand how I was feeling, where I was coming from.
How do you interpret that from what you read?
I literally came to you, a broken fucking person who currently wants nothing more than to die, and reached out. Offering some insight into me, what I need, and wanting nothing more than to put the work in, to open myself up to be vulnerable, and to try to feel better.
But, instead, you took it as “this isn’t working”. You took my biggest fear and you used it against me. Not in an evil and malicious way, I’m sure, but still. That doesn’t change the level of hurt and betrayal that I feel.
I’ve been feeling more broken than usual lately. Attribute it to the time of year, me being pregnant, me being sober for the first time in years…attribute it to whatever the fuck you want. This time of year is no different than last year. I’m a fucked up mess who needs her fucking people on her damn side.
Last year, it was my husband. He didn’t know how to deal with it, or me, or life, and he didn’t handle it well. We got past it, but it scarred me. And it left me feeling wary about trusting him with it this year.
So I didn’t. I took it to therapy instead. And honestly? It worked out well. Tuesday went great. We actually had a great session talking about hard shit.
I had high hopes going into therapy today, thinking it would be the same, that it would go well. I’ll never know why, but I was wrong. I never fucking know why it doesn’t go well when it doesn’t go well.
See, I’m this fucked up excuse for a human being who desperately needs people, but is SO fucking deeply fearful of trusting, or being vulnerable, that I hang out in this weird zone of “go away, I don’t fucking need you” and “please don’t leave me, I literally can’t do this on my own”.
My therapist is the one person I TRY not to do that with, push away in that sense.
What I wrote, and what I meant to write, was something along the lines of “I know I’m resistive, I know I’m difficult, and I’m acknowledging this as something I actively want to work on, and I’m sorry. Please don’t give up on me“.
What she took it as was “this isn’t working, we’re doing this the wrong way, we need to change what we’re doing“.
I want to hate her, because thats a feeling I understand. I want to yell at her for taking what I felt and meant so miserably wrong, and for not understanding me in my attempt to submit and give up my fucked up and difficult ways.
All I want to do right now is swallow a fucking bottle full of klonopin. I do not want to be here anymore, I don’t want to do this. All everyone does is fucking give up on me, and honestly? If everyone else does, why the fuck shouldn’t I?
I’m a bad mom, I’m a bad wife, I’m even fucking terrible at therapy.
I have been trying so fucking hard to learn how to be vulnerable and fucking TRUSTING of somebody. It’s not something I know how to do, and it scares the shit out of me.
And this is why. This is fucking why.
Because people fucking hurt you. They give up on you when you literally hand them words on a paper asking them not to give up on you.
This is the single reason alone why I have had my guard up, my walls up miles fucking high.
I guess I did it. I pushed her away too. The one fucking person who I was trying so hard to allow myself to be vulnerable with. This is what I fucking get for it.
I’m a terrible fucking person, and I don’t deserve anything better. I shouldn’t be surprised. I’m not surprised.
But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t fucking hurt.
12 thoughts on “Hurt.”
Oh no! Fuck, this is the last thing you need right now.
So what did she say? Is there any possibility that she was saying that she needs to do things differently to help you better? (Although even if that’s what she was saying, I’m mad at her for sending the message that it’s you that’s terrible rather than her.)
She wants to go from twice a week to once a week because she thinks what we’re doing isn’t working or something, even though that’s literally the opposite of what I need and what I need is to fucking dig in and go deeper and figure all of this shit out.
She’s doing what she thinks is “best” or whatever, but she’s wrong. I’d never admit this out loud, ever, but I do need her. Or therapy. Or some combination of the 2.
I’m fucking miserable. And I’m trying to hard to trust her. And this was literally my fear holding me back in allowing myself to trust her.
That’s really, really shitty. That’s so fucked up that she thinks less often would work better.
I know she’s frustrated, I’m a frustrating person. I get that. I just wish I didn’t feel this bad right now. I feel like giving up so badly. Like there’s no point.
It’s fine, no worries. I’m sure it’ll be fine.
I would feel bad too in that situation, and I can totally see where you’re getting that no point feeling. I hope you’re able to hang on and keep going with it for at least a little bit longer. ❤️
I’m doing my best. ❤️🩹❤️🩹
I know you are. 💕
Wish I had some great words to tell you, to make things go la-di-da better and all that… Unfortunately, I’m not that great so I can’t… I can understand it to a point as I’m the same way in the go away and please don’t go department.
I hope you can resolve things with your therapist. 🍀 Wishing you all the best! 🌈 🌻
Thank you, I hope it gets better as well.
It’s hard to commit to anything when you’re not even sure yourself if you can allow yourself to trust, or just try to push them all away first.
I know trusting is supposedly better in the long run…but it sure is scary.
Trusting someone can be so very scary, especially if you’ve trusted the wrong people in the past and they hurt you more than others ever have…. It’s about giving them some power over you, and that’s scary! But if you know for sure that this person is truly here to help you, baby steps towards trust could be wise.. 😊 You got this dear 🍀 💪🏼!
I don’t believe you are a terrible person. You don’t deserve this.
Thank you. I just feel like I’m terrible. I know she’s not doing anything to hurt me intentionally, but it feels shitty, and it feels like it’s because I’m a failure. Because I’m inadequate, not good enough.