I don’t have the words to express how I’m feeling right now, and honestly I feel like I’m wrong for even feeling them.
I just got home from therapy, and, as you may or may not know, that’s been tumultuous lately. She’s moving me from twice a week to once a week.
I’m going to write this one very raw and unfiltered, so I apologize for that.
This feels awful. I feel abandoned and broken. While it wasn’t her intention, I feel like she betrayed my trust and has left me completely on my own. Yes, I’ll still go for 2 hours on Tuesdays, which I’m grateful for. But this isn’t a small blow, and I feel completely terrible.
I don’t know how she could be so wrong in thinking that this would be better. That Fridays weren’t “productive enough”, and that we’ll still be able to get a lot done on Tuesdays.
My life is shit. It’s chaos, it’s trauma, it’s fucking brutal. My kids (and my own) health is steadily declining at a scary rate, I’m facing a high risk pregnancy with a lot of scary things going on, and I’m trying to just fucking survive.
I need her, and I need her support. And to not fucking be abandoned right now.
I don’t have support. Let’s be real about that. I don’t. My husband does his best, but commutation isn’t his strength. And yes, we’re always working on that, but I need people strongly and firmly in my corner right now.
There’s not many people that I want to talk to. That I feel safe enough, or trusting enough, to actually want to be open like that with. The relationship I have with my therapist isn’t something that I have with anyone else in my life. And while, granted, it is stressful right now, she is a person that I need in my life. And I feel so fucking alone and abandoned by this decision that she made.
I want to run away. I want to run and shut down and put every fucking wall I’ve worked so hard to destroy right back up. It feels so wrong on so many levels. I feel like there’s just no point to this. Like why bother living when there’s no hope, there’s no support, there’s nothing for me.
I’m just alone.
I get shit on by everyone in my life. I’m constantly told that I’m not enough, that I’m doing something wrong, that everything I do is bad and wrong. My parents hate me and the person that I am, they think I’m awful, my other close extended family is responsible for raping me and clearly causing more harm than good, and I’m otherwise completely alone.
We didn’t talk about Mother’s Day, and how much I fucking hate it. We didn’t talk about my sons cardio appointment yesterday, and how that went fucking horribly. And we didn’t talk about my upcoming, very stressful and emotional, trip.
All of these things that need to be worked on and addressed, and I was so stuck in my head about feeling abandoned and like there’s no fucking point to any of this, that that’s all I could focus on.
I need her, and I need therapy. And I struggle so fucking hard to say the things that I need to say. It doesn’t fucking matter anyway. None of it ever mattered.
And I’m not allowed to feel any type of way about this. I just have to fucking accept it.
There is no point to living my life when I have no support and nothing positive or productive to counter all of the fucking bullshit that I go through.
I’m alone. I have nothing, and no one. Not in the way that I need them.
I don’t want to live when there’s just no fucking point. There’s no hope, there’s no chance. I’ve said time and time again that I can’t do it alone.
And I really fucking can’t.