The message I wanted to send to my therapist

When the nights get especially dark, it’s one of my last, and most desperate, survival instincts to reach out.

My friends know that if they hear from me later at night, I’m usually very not okay.

I had the kind of bad night that often ends with people not seeing the morning. I’m trying to be okay, but I’m not. I want to reach out to people, but I can’t.

I always feel like too much of a burden, that I’m bothering them, or that they’ll hate me. And I know I’ll hate myself for it the next day too.

It was the kind of night that’s bad enough to where I very badly wanted to send my therapist a message. Things haven’t been great with us lately, and I honestly think that’s a decently sized part of why I’m feeling so….dead inside. Therapy is one of the very few only good things that I have. And without that serving as a positive presence in my life…well…the bad just feels exactly as it does. Without the buffer, without the hope. Feeling less supported, and more alone, during a period in my life with increasing difficulty and pain….it obviously is less than ideal.

These were the unorganized thoughts I had rattling around in my head last night as the tears were uncontrollably coming from my face:

Can it just be okay that I’m not okay right now? Can it just be okay that I need you, that I need things to be good and okay, just for a little while? I’m having such an extremely hard time right now, and I just need something to be okay. I need us to be okay, and I need someone and somewhere to be safe again just for a minute. Just long enough so that I can catch my breath again.

Even though I wanted to, and felt like I needed to, I didn’t send that message. I was worried she wouldn’t care, or wouldn’t answer, or worse, would answer, but whatever she said would hurt, or that it would push her away even more.

This morning my eyes are swollen and I have a headache. An emotional hangover. I feel just as dead and numb inside. I don’t want to move, I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to exist. All I feel capable of doing is hiding, withdrawing, and ceasing to exist in any meaningful way.

If I weren’t pregnant, it’s honestly questionable if I would’ve survived a night like last night. I’m just not okay right now, and I don’t know how else to put it.

I am tired of fighting. I’m tired of fighting alone. But I’m afraid that I’ll scare people away with my brokenness.

16 thoughts on “The message I wanted to send to my therapist”

  1. I’m in the exact same place, my beautiful friend. Unfortunately, my younger brother took his life three years, ten months, and twenty-nine days ago… and it nearly shattered everyone around him. There are days when I’m jealous of his decision, and ability to have successfully carried out his plan (whereas my multiple attempts only ended in “failure”). Days that I’m angry that he forced me to live; because there is no way that I can put my folks through another loss of a child. I hold on because he didn’t… and I pray for the strength to remain among the living, regardless of how much pain I’m in — pain that no one seems to understand. I will pray for you too (though often, I don’t believe that anyone’s really listening); and I hold on to the hope that we will both find a path to happiness. You are not alone. I’m here if you’d ever like to communicate via email:

    1. I actually thought about reaching out, but then that whole, ya know. Afraid to bother people thing.
      That’s hard with your brother, I’m sorry that happened. I can definitely understand some of those complicated feelings surrounding it. It isn’t something I want to do, and that’s part of the reason I try to hang on. I just don’t want to leave anyone with my pain. But sometimes it’s just so freaking hard.

    1. I’m just afraid to. I don’t want to bother her. Or upset her or…be annoying or anything. I don’t know. I just feel like shit. And it sucks.

      1. Yeah, you’re probably right. I just feel like I’m going to make things worse or mess it up even more. And I should probably just “get over it” and be fine.

  2. So sorry to hear that it’s been rough.. and especially that your pregnant now! I can relate to that being I’m expecting myself at this point and I’m sure it isn’t easy for you either with all the symptoms..
    I’m praying for you! Hang on ❤️

    1. Congrats to you then! I’m 18 weeks right now and it’s kicking my ass 🙃 Half the time I don’t what what to “blame”, the hormones, the lack of being on medicine, or just life itself. It’s definitely rough, but I know hanging in there is the only option.

      1. Ha, I can imagine! I’m 22 weeks myself and I’m so glad that I’m currently on medication (although I’ve been healed, you can check my blog for my story) I still have anxiety and struggle with myself. If I wouldn’t have been on medication I definitely would have had it harder. But still, those hormones sure do mess you up!
        Please feel better.. for your baby and for yourself 🥰

  3. I feel these same intense feelings at times. At night, it gets worse. I wanna reach out but don’t wanna bother anyone. I email my therapist too much. Then I tell myself to stop. But I’m still tempted. I turn to God. He helps me and reasons with me. He is my anchor. Still the emotions are exhausting. Painful emotions.

    1. Yeah, nights are definitely worse. I feel the same way, like I just don’t want to bother anyone. I’m glad you have something that helps with those feelings at times. But still, they are painful emotions to deal with for sure. ❤️

      1. Yes, I also feel intense fear frequently, not so much for myself but for others. The world is a scary place and I want to protect my children from everything, but I can’t do this alone. I also feel fear for myself too because I don’t want to be tortured or for others to experience the same- whether physically or mentally.

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