Clinging to the thread

Well, I had a certain kind of emotional reaction to whatever it was that happened in therapy last night. And driving home was…

Well, it was the kind of drive home where I absolutely blasted music, tried to drown out the suicidal thoughts, and halfway contemplated not going home.

Therapy was fine. It wasn’t bad. But it wasn’t until I was driving home that I realized the state of mind that I was in.

It was like…full blown panic attack mode. Which is really strange for leaving therapy (when things are going fine).

I was white knuckling the steering wheel. I couldn’t think straight. I was alone on the road with nothing and no one in front of me. And I just wanted to drive off of it. I wanted to be done. Like, forever done.

I can’t explain why I felt the intensity of feelings that I did driving home last night. It didn’t feel warranted. It didn’t feel justified.

Therapy went well. It was fine.

The only difference was that we talked about hard things (that I otherwise tend to avoid) rather than being more task and goal oriented. More emotional, less focused, I guess.

We spent a while talking about my birth son. His birthday is in a week now. And I was just so guarded. It was weird. I’m usually not that guarded when I talk about him, or at least, I don’t think I am. But I literally felt physically sick thinking about him and talking about him.

It’s just getting very real. The possibility that he will want to meet me soon. He’s been asking his parents more and more for some sort of interaction with me. And knowing that is making this year very hard. Because I know, that at any given moment, I could get a text or a phone call from them asking something of me that they’ve never asked before. And frankly, it’s absolutely terrifying.

In therapy, she asked me me what I would ask him or tell him if I could say anything. (Not what I would actually say, like age appropriate wise, more of a deeper level like what do you really want to tell him kind of a thing.)

And that was sooo hard. It was just so hard to go there.

I want to tell him that I love him.

I want to ask him if he’s okay, if he’s happy.

I want to tell him how sorry I am. But he has such a good life. And he has so many opportunities.

I just want him to know how much I love him.

This week will be hard, and I’m doing my best to just get through it. Every day will be a little harder, a little heavier. But I’ll get through it.

I don’t have a choice.

(((I miss him always, but today I miss him extra)))

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