Things I Wish You Said.

These are things I wish people had said to me when it mattered…. this can be from friends past and present, family, bullies, men, or anyone who ever crossed my path and left a mark in my life. The impact of these few words would be tremendous for someone like me. So it’s sad that I’ve rarely heard such sentiments. The fact these things most often have gone unsaid has broken me. A series of imperfect people in this imperfect world, neglecting to be kind or help at all with a sense of closure, have left open wounds all over my body and soul. I know life doesn’t always allow us closure…. but from guys disappearing from my life, to friends betraying and hurting me with no remorse, to nobody saying I mattered to them, to leaving it too late to say ‘I love you’ and never being able to hear it back, to being ripped away from someone I was attached to in therapy… it’s all too much. All I’ve ever wanted was ONE person to prove that there can be a good ending in life. After too much of it I put my final faith in therapy, thinking they’d help me do this. They did not. It was a missed opportunity. So I struggle on with life, awaiting the next hurt, the next betrayal, the next loss, knowing I will never hear a single one of the things I need to hear in order to heal….

 

  • I’ll never forget you. I’ll always remember you.
  • Your friendship means / meant a lot to me.
  • I’m glad to have known you.
  • I miss you / I’ll miss you.
  • I’m sorry. What I did was wrong. Please forgive me.
  • I love you.
  • I care about you / worry about you.
  • I value you.
  • You’re special.
  • You’re beautiful.
  • I couldn’t live without you.
  • You’ve give me such lovely memories.
  • I’m flattered you feel that way for me.
  • You deserve better than me.
  • Is there anything you want to say or to ask me?
  • I lied to you. I lied about you. I’m sorry.
  • I was selfish. I’m sorry.
  • I let you down. I’m sorry.
  • You have every right to hate me.
  • I trust you.
  • I admire you.
  • You matter to me.
  • You’re not a burden, and I’ll kick the ass of anyone who makes you think that!
  • Thank you for everything you do and for being you.
  • I believe in you. I have faith in you.
  • I’m proud of you.
  • I have your back.
  • I don’t want to lose you.
  • I’m not going to leave you.
  • Nothing changes how I feel about you.
  • You’re a good person.
  • You mean the world to me.
  • I’m so lucky to have you.
  • I will help you through this. You’ve got me on your side, we’ll do this together.
  • Your feelings matter most to me.
  • I had feelings for you too.
  • I made a mistake.
  • I never wanted to hurt you.
  • Losing you was painful for me.
  • I wish I could undo what I did.
  • You didn’t deserve that.
  • I wish we could have had our chance.
  • I wish I’d met you sooner.
  • You make me happy.
  • I want you to be happy.
  • You deserve to experience love. I hope you’ll find it soon.
  • I understand you.
  • I want to understand you.
  • I want to learn everything about you.
  • Tell me how you’re feeling…
  • It’s okay that you feel that way.
  • You’re not alone.
  • I wish you well.
  • Goodbye.

Lost In Grief.

lost in grief.jpg

 

*Names have been changed. May be upsetting as I discuss grief and death*

 

I’ve noticed I’m dealing with my transference issue in the same way as my grief. In that I’m not. I’m not letting the pain in. I realised this the other night when a memory of *James entered my mind, and it hit me like a lorry. I burst into tears and couldn’t get myself under control. It was just such a silly little flash of something… just how he used to sit, talk, smile and laugh – I could see him and hear him, and it was like an emotional dagger plunged into my heart.

But I’ve noticed for a while now I’ve been putting off truly thinking about him. Just like with my granddad, James is always in my thoughts, every moment of every day… I know this isn’t normal by the way… I don’t claim to understand why someone I hardly know holds as much importance to me as my own granddad, but it’s the way it is. Anyway, although they are both in my thoughts, I don’t allow myself to delve into the reality of their loss. It’s almost as if on some level I’m in denial of reality.

With my granddad I accept he’s no longer here – I can’t see him, hear him or hold his hand. But I try not to let in the whole truth… to try to shield myself from the pain. If I think about all we went through with the hospital, nearly losing him; the change in him mentally afterwards; the months of watching him waste away; saying goodbye; the day he died – all the grief of that day; his body leaving the house; the funeral; never seeing him sat in his chair again; never being able to ask him anything or tell him anything; not seeing his nose crinkle up in a smile; not having him insist I have a biscuit; not having him worry; not hearing his stories; knowing my nan has lost her life partner; knowing he won’t be at my wedding nor see me have children; knowing he’ll never see me be happy…….. if I let all that in, you’d have to scrape me off the floor. Just writing this paragraph has left me in tears. But I’m still trying to keep it all held at a distance. The reality is I never pictured a world where I didn’t have my grandparents. This was my first loss that’s affected me deeply. Now the world feels unsafe. It feels uncertain. I spent so many years being prepared that one day they wouldn’t be here anymore… I never thought that ‘one day’ would ever come. He should be here. I wish he was here.

Sorry, I’m getting upset again, because I’m having flashes of feelings and memories like I had the other night with James, where I can hear my granddad’s voice in my head, I can see him. It’s the good memories that kill us.

But one thing that still haunts me, is the last time I saw him, as himself, before he was hospitalised, whilst he was lucid, and I went to say bye to him before going home, there was a moment where we just looked at each other, and it felt like we were communicating ‘I love you’ to each other, but I couldn’t say it, because I have such issues with saying those words to anyone. And he didn’t say it, but I felt as though it was silently said. That haunted me because I then didn’t see him for a while, and the next time I did, I was in a hospital, holding his hand, effectively saying goodbye to him. Everyone had given up hope, but I would tell him to keep on fighting. And sure enough he did. The hospital had stopped treatment, but his own body fought back and kept him alive. But he didn’t recall anything that had happened. He didn’t know what we’d all been through, nearly losing him. He wasn’t himself after that. He was distant… frail. He would live out the remainder of his days in bed at home. Until almost a year ago when he went downhill, and we knew the end was coming. One night, I think it was a Monday we went to see him, and I went upstairs, closed the door, turned off the monitor so nobody could hear me, and I stroked his head and told him everything I wish I could have told him in life… everything he deserved to hear. But I had waited too long, because no matter how much I told him how much I loved him, he couldn’t say it back. I don’t even know if he heard me. His breathing was shallow, his cheeks were hollow, and his eyes wouldn’t close fully… but he was unresponsive. Seeing him like that scarred me. In less than a year he had gone from the man I shared that silent moment with, to this. I still remember saying goodbye for the last time… knowing it was the last time. Every other time I had said goodbye I followed it up with ‘I’ll see you again soon’…. I didn’t that time. That time it was simply goodbye. I walked out of the dimly lit room, partially closing the door, looked back one last time, knowing I would never see him again. (The next day my parents would do the same, and the following day, the Wednesday, he passed away with my nan and aunty by his side… I still remember getting the phone call just after it happened…) It’s odd, because at the time I don’t recall being too emotional about saying goodbye. I think I wanted to be strong for everyone, so didn’t let my emotions show. Also it didn’t feel real. It was a new experience for me. It’s only thinking back on it now, that it leaves me sobbing into a pillow like I just did.

But this is what happens. I don’t deal with the pain and sadness. I don’t let it out, because I never fully let it in. And then one little random thought will set me off without warning. And this is how I’m dealing with my grief for him, but also for James. I was in pieces to begin with, for weeks. I wouldn’t stop crying. I was harming myself. And as I started getting support for it, I shoved the thoughts and feelings away. I didn’t let them close enough to hurt me. Some might see that as a good thing. I see it as bunging it all under the rug for now. I don’t know the alternative.

All I know, or rather can assume from self-analysis, is that I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to my granddad. I had a certain build-up, knowing the end was coming and I would have to lose him. I had a chance to say goodbye, which many people don’t get, but it was too late to hear anything back that may have helped me. I will never see him again. James… I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him. There was the build-up towards the end of the course, so I knew that I was going to lose him. I had a chance to say goodbye at the end of the course, but I didn’t say it properly, and I didn’t say thank you to him, as I was too emotional about the loss, so just left. I could have done with a closure in the form of being wished well personally, after the trauma of the course, but circumstances don’t allow for that. So I couldn’t hear anything that might help me. And I will never see James again… ever ….. I face the rest of my days without both of them… two men I admired so much, wasn’t ready to say goodbye to, but had ripped away from me. And I don’t know how to cope with that.

Two losses, both feeling the same, in the same year. I know it sounds wrong, but I’ve said on several occasions that losing James feels worse than losing my granddad, for a few reasons –

  1. I had years with my granddad. I had hours with James. I didn’t have long enough with him.
  2. I’m the only one to feel this pain. When losing my granddad, the whole family felt it and understood it. This is only my burden to carry.
  3. We didn’t have any kind of relationship to legitimately mourn.
  4. But worst of all…. James continues to live.

I can do nothing about the fact my granddad has gone. There is no way to bring him back. I don’t have another option. He’s gone. I can believe he’s watching over me. But with James, he’s long forgotten who I am. He’s carried on with his life, he has his own personal happiness, I’m just a number to him, and I have to keep on living knowing he’s out there still. It is so hard to mourn the loss of someone still living. Because it feels like something that doesn’t have to BE. I have to accept a death. But a part of me still fights reality that James cannot be in my life…. it feels like there’s a choice. And while he’s not dead, and I don’t have to accept eternity without him, why do I have to choose/accept eternity without him?? I will never do anything about this way of thinking, but I’m just saying it causes conflict in my head, that he’s still here, and in that way it feels like the loss is being INFLICTED on me, against my will.

I know that death feels like that too. But death is a fact of life. It’s what happens, hopefully at the end of a long well-lived life, if we’re fortunate. My granddad was 90 when he passed away. I guess you could say it was his time. I wish it wasn’t. But with James, he hasn’t died, but I have to live my life as though he has. I find that incredibly hard to do. It’s the same feelings – that I’ll never see him again. It’s beyond my control. I feel powerless. Whilst my granddad may be watching over me, James isn’t. He’s about my age, and living his life. He’s not and never will be watching over me! Simply forgetting me. That makes it even more painful, to know I’m that irrelevant, and I feel so emotionally attached to him, to this degree, not understanding what the hell is wrong with me. So I have this replica of grief with no comfort in the fact that James will be watching over me. With no hope of being reunited with him in a better place after this life. With no personal memories to hold on to like I did with my granddad. With no shared stories from other people. With no pictures. With nothing. Just my memory. This is grief multiplied. It makes no sense whatsoever, and that makes me feel even worse, like I’m a weirdo and an idiot.

Nobody understands it. I don’t understand it. I just know how painfully real it feels. How sickening and devastating it is for me. I’ve never felt something like this before. I’ve never experienced such an intense emotion that makes no logical sense to anyone, that in some way terrifies me, isolates me, and destroys me inside.

I don’t want to do life. And anytime I say things like that, I feel nobody gets it. Nobody would ever understand why losing James makes me not want to do life. I didn’t ‘love him’ they’ll say. They’ll tell me it’s not real. They’ll tell me it was unrequited, as if I actually thought I stood a chance. They’ll tell me to find someone else, but they don’t realise this is more complex than that. This is not about me being with James. This is about never seeing him again. Just the other day I was disturbed to experience jealousy… of his baby. I wasn’t wishing to trade places with his wife. I was wanting in that moment to trade places with his baby, because that is one lucky baby… whether he/she likes it or not, they will have James in their life forever… they’re family. He will always be there for them. He will protect them and love them, comfort them and dedicate his life to them. They’re lucky… that the only way they’ll lose him is when his time comes. And then he’ll watch over them. Do you know how utterly messed up I feel, that when I first met James I was physically attracted to him….. I grew to like him in a different way…. this morphed into a feeling of love and attachment …. and has ended up with me wishing I was his baby… that he would be my father, so that I wouldn’t have to lose him from my life against my will. This is so messed up!!! 

I don’t know if this is some kind of a mash-up between losing my granddad, and all the losses I’ve had in life, of people I didn’t want to lose – friends, guys etc. I’ve had one guy I didn’t want to live without, but he was a dick, to put it bluntly. I had a ‘nice guy’ as a friend, and lost him to a ‘best friend’ who stabbed me in the back. It took me a while to come to terms with that, as that felt like it was against my will. But now I pretend these people are dead to me. I don’t know how to cope with loss any other way. I have to pretend it’s eternal and was beyond my power to choose… beyond the power of those people to choose to leave me. Or I have to hate them. It’s going to take a lot for me to come up with reasons to hate James. I don’t want to pretend he’s dead. I can’t. He’s very much alive in my head. I can’t escape reality. But I keep fighting it.

So I think I’m in the ‘bargaining’ stage of grief. ‘Depression’ being the other I’m experiencing, hence not wanting to live life anymore. I know I can use a bereavement service for my grief about my granddad, but who on this planet can help me with grief from losing someone like James? It’s not even like I can say it’s a break-up… it’s nothing like that. I don’t even know what you’d classify it as! So how anyone can help me with it, I really don’t know. I just wish someone out there truly understood what I’m experiencing…. so they could tell ME… because I haven’t the foggiest. I feel like a freak. I feel beyond help.

Do I just grieve for him like I do with my granddad? It feels like a disservice to my granddad, that I would grieve the same for someone I spent a total of 24 hours with! Simple fact is I don’t want to grieve, I want it to not be this way. But then I know that’s the ‘bargaining’ bit… the ‘denial’. Which I guess shows I AM already grieving for him. I just can’t take any more loss. But I’m slowly learning that life is loss. Life is pain. Life is hard. And right now I really don’t want to partake in any of it. Nothing could make this right. I just want to take a pill, fall asleep for a very long time, have a break from the world, and wake up with no memory of any of this hurt…. no attachment to anyone I’ve lost… no ties to my past, and only hope for my future. Life feels bleak right now. And I wish I’d never gone for help last year. It backfired spectacularly. Now I’ve got double the problem. No wonder I want to give up. It was bad enough this time a year ago…

The Darkest Night.

The Darkest Night

 

*Self-harm warning*

 

Last night I had my final session of my CBT course. It was hard. I cried a few times. The final mindfulness was the hardest point, knowing I would never hear that voice again – the one that spoke to me on a deep level, and helped me to just be. These were the very last moments I’d be near him, and I knew it. I had to wipe my eyes halfway through – I couldn’t keep the emotions inside any longer. I went straight for the tissues at the end of the exercise… And then it was over. It was time for goodbye. Most of that time is a blur now… I had gone into a dangerous place in my mind. But a couple of members of the group gave me a big hug, which made such a difference.

A group of us went to the pub next door afterwards, and had a drink to celebrate getting to the end of the course… although for me it was tinged with ‘drowning my sorrows’. I had just faced a horrendous loss, that nobody will ever understand… one I’m reluctant to write too much about, as it’s making me tear up again, and after last night I don’t want to release these emotions when I’m alone… it doesn’t feel safe.

Let’s just say it’s the most painful experience since losing my granddad earlier this year. It was a goodbye I didn’t want to say. It was the pain of a break-up and a bereavement at the same time. And the hopelessness and powerlessness of never seeing him again for the rest of my life, is too heartbreaking to express. For more on this, just read the rest of my posts about transference – that will explain what I’ve been through and why it hurts.

This week I started opening up to people about the transference. I sent a message to a member of the group who wouldn’t be at the last session. This gave me the courage to reach out to others for support, and I told someone during the break, which further gave me courage to tell the rest of them in the pub afterwards. Needless to say I broke down in tears. But they gave so much support, comfort and understanding, that in that moment they saved me from myself. If I had walked out of that session and gone home, I dread to think where I’d be right now. They softened the fall a little. They didn’t judge me, they rallied round me to lift my spirits, and they’ll never know how much I appreciated that.

I went home thinking I’d be alright. I knew I was still in immense pain emotionally, and nobody could save me from that. But I hoped I could just get off to bed and not ruminate. I watched my TV programme, but my lip kept wobbling towards the end. I wanted to go to bed, be alone and let the tears come out again.

But once I did, they wouldn’t stop. Wave after wave of grief attacked me. It felt like someone had taken an ice cream scoop to my heart…. like a part of me had been violently ripped away against my will. Yes I’d got through the actual event of ‘goodbye’ – even though I was so upset at the time I didn’t actually say it, or say thank you… just as well I wrote a card then. Yes I had got through it and not died…. I was still standing. But… that was never the issue. The issue wasn’t saying goodbye. The issue is forever without him. It’s like with my granddad, the worst part isn’t the moment he died. It’s never seeing him again. It’s the gaping hole left in my life, and knowing I will never see his face again, look in his eyes, hear his voice, and actually interact and have a conversation with him. I will never hold his hand again, or hear his laughter, or hear his stories. It’s all gone.

I feel awful saying this, but the loss I faced last night feels so much worse than when I lost my granddad. I must explain this, because nothing can be worse than losing a close family member. I love my granddad so much, and I’m not coping with his loss. But we all knew about it. We were all grieving. In losing this therapist that I’ve been transferring on, nobody knew… except the therapists, and they wouldn’t help me. So I have been totally isolated with it. I haven’t been able to tell anyone and have real support through it. Nobody knows the intensity of what I’m feeling. Perhaps that’s made it all the more intense. But it feels like a break-up with someone I never even had. I know transference is about the past, and not about the person in front of you. I have never experienced it before, but I know a bit about it, to know that what I’m about to say is likely not the case, but sometimes you have to just let the words hit the air, to lessen their impact on your heart. I loved every little thing about him. I feel like I loved him. That’s why it hurts. It feels like I was rejected and dumped by someone I loved, who I never even had. And at the same time it feels like he died. Because there is no place for him in my life now. He’s gone, forever. And I’m in tears again right now, as I write this. That’s how shattering this is for me.

Nobody can take away this pain that I’m feeling. Except him. But that cannot and will not happen. In an ideal world I would have had one session with him afterwards, to discuss it properly, and draw a line under it, and have closure. But I can’t have that. So now I just have more grief, more heartbreak, more negative feelings to deal with than when I sought therapy.

I cried almost constantly for an hour and a half. I sobbed into my pillow so that nobody would hear me. I tried for all that time to just let my emotions be. I tried to not act on them, and I resisted the urge to harm myself… for an hour and a half. I let the waves come and go. But I didn’t see an end in sight. I knew my heart was irreparably broken, and life wouldn’t be okay now. I knew it. I even said to myself that self-harm wouldn’t even solve the problem, it wouldn’t change the fact I’ve lost him forever. But that didn’t help my state of mind. That made me feel suicidal. It made me think if this pain can’t even be stopped by self-harm then I don’t want to continue with life.

So unfortunately I opted to put my faith in physical pain, to reduce the emotional. And again, unfortunately, it did work for me. It brought the emotional intensity down. And brought me to a state whereby I was thinking more rationally and could phone the Samaritans.

Once I’d patched myself up I typed the number into my phone, and for about ten minutes I sat, hovering my thumb over the call button. I kept going over in my head what it might be like to phone, and worrying about what if they don’t answer? Worse, what if they do? What will they say? What if I don’t connect with the person I’m speaking to? What if I get upset and start crying loudly and wake everyone else up…. it was almost 1am at this point – I’d spent almost an hour trying to hurt myself and deal with the aftermath. The worst of the emotional pain had gone, but I knew I needed to hear someone giving me hope. In the end I let my thumb fall onto the screen and waited for an answer. It rang for ages and I nearly gave up. And then a voice came through…

I didn’t know what to say. I told them I’d hesitated about calling, and was anxious as I’d never called them before. The woman on the end of the phone had a soft, caring voice, and I really felt I was talking to a human being – I don’t know what I’d expected, but the woman had a ‘mumsy’ feel about her. In all honesty a lot of what people said last night – both on the phone, and at the session – is a blur. It was 1am, I was exhausted from crying for two and half hours. But I remember how reassuring it felt, just having someone listen to me and try to make me feel better. She told me to take my time. She said we were already into Thursday, so my individual therapy session was the next day. She told me how worthy I am, and that I can phone anytime. I said now I’ve phoned once and it wasn’t as scary as I thought, I might use their number again if I have an urge to harm myself. She by no means solved my problem, as it’s not one that can be solved. But for about 15 / 20 minutes she made me feel less alone at a very lonely hour, in a painfully lonely state of mind.

By the time I got off the phone I was so tired, so I settled down to watch a stand-up comedy DVD before sleeping – I even managed to laugh several times during it – only a couple of hours earlier I thought I’d never smile again. I thought that was it forever. By about 3am I got off to sleep, but didn’t get a lot of sleep. I’ve had a tiring day. But the amount of support I’ve received today has had such an impact on me. Friends old and new have all contacted me to offer support and encouragement – and that does so much more for a person in distress than anything else in the world.

These friends have given me hope and light in the darkest time of my life. And in a little over 12 hours I’ll see my therapist, and finally get to discuss everything. I’m scared. I’m worried what she’ll say about my self-harming and the incident in the third session. I’m worried she’ll dismiss my feelings about the transference. I’m worried she’ll judge me for it. I’m worried she’ll say they can’t help me anymore. I’m scared of what’s next. I’m worried I’ll just cry and cry, and not be able to get words out – that will be so embarrassing for me… I hate getting upset in front of people. And I’m afraid of having it confirmed that there’s no answer to the pain I’m feeling, and I just have to keep going through it alone. I want a solution, but I fear no solution will be enough to fix this now. I knew this would happen. I knew it would be another loss to add to the pile – I said that weeks ago! I honestly feel I have more to grieve and more to recover from now, than before. It took me months if not years to recover from the last loss like this… only this feels much stronger, and the circumstances are more painful… at least with the last guy I could say he was an arsehole. I cannot say the same here… in this case he’s everything I want and deserve.

Maybe if I’d taken the opportunity I was given after my incident, to quit the group, I wouldn’t have built up such strong feelings for him. Maybe I wouldn’t be dying inside right now. Maybe I wouldn’t have an arm chock-a-block full of scars and be unable to stop harming. But then, if I had quit in week four, I would never have met such wonderful people, who have all really been there for me this week. “I could have missed the pain, but I’d have had to miss the dance” as the song goes… you’ve got to take the good with the bad. There are such good things I can take from the last twelve weeks. I only hope in time life stops hurting so much, so I can cherish those positives. Right now I’m swamped with darkness and pain. A monster’s been released in me, and I need someone to help me contain it. I can’t do it on my own.

Poem: Twice More And Then Goodbye.

 

Twice More And Then Goodbye

 

 

Twice more and then goodbye,

I dare not dwell on it, lest I cry.

But the ache in my chest, knows no rest;

It calls your name throughout the day

And weeps for you at night,

Breaking daily, at the thought of forever

Without that face, that voice, the light of your spirit;

My heart cries an echo of love in your direction,

But you’ll never hear it.

My feelings, formed thoughts, formed words, formed rhyme –

I wrote once of love, but now of loss and the swiftness of time.

I wish you’d stay for evermore,

The wounds of abandonment burn tender and raw.

I’ve sliced and written line after line, of my affection,

The perceived connection,

About your perfection,

And the harshness of reality – your eternal rejection.

The forbidden fruit which grows upon my tree,

Ripened for you,

Offered by me.

But there are some things that simply cannot be,

For my life is a tragedy…

Life brought me to you, only too late,

It always does, life is cruelty and bitterest pain.

There is no sunshine in my sky, it went away,

It hides behind clouds of darkest grey;

I know only blustering winds and torrential rain,

Each day drenching me just the same.

They say ‘Look for rainbows!’

Yet sunlight is needed to light up the sky in radiant colour,

Since there’s no such thing for me,

My life is darker and duller.

Maybe in a different time, a universe far from here,

You could have been my sunshine…

The one whom I’d hold dear.

You’d take my hand and walk with me, to a future of our own;

You’d kiss away the scars of life,

And show me happiness like I’ve never known;

You’d make me feel beautiful, and as though I am your world,

You’d pick the apple from my tree, and make my toes curl.

You’d love me unconditionally

And stay with me for all our lives;

I’d be your best friend, confidant and eventually your wife.

We’d live in bliss for all our days,

The clouds of my life departing, from our love’s rays…

I wistfully dream that maybe, someday, somewhere,

If not in this life, then perhaps once we depart –

In a new life, with a brand new start,

I’ll be given the chance to capture your heart.

And there will be no more hurt,

And no more farewells,

Because ‘Twice more and then goodbye’…

And goodbye is hell.

Poem: Never To Be.

Never To Be

She bids farewell to her heart’s desire,

The pain expanding through her chest.

The nights grow colder; the days more dim,

The sad reality… she will never know him.

She’ll never feel the rhythm of his heart,

Nor be the one to make it beat faster, harder,

Out of his chest;

She will never be blessed enough

To know the warmth of his embrace;

The peace, of resting beside him as the sunrise touches his face.

Her lips will never connect with his.

She’ll never hear his voice again,

That gentle, calming tone, which always soothed her pain

And led her to a dream-like trance;

A spiritual romance.

She will hear his adorable laugh no more,

Nor share in the inner workings of his brilliant mind.

She’ll not see those dancing, deep and penetrating eyes

For the rest of time;

Her life will feel like an imperfect rhyme…

How can a world exist without his presence,

His spirit,

His light?

How can life go on with him forever out of sight?

She will never know the safety of his hand,

The love behind his smile,

The warmth of his breath upon her skin.

She won’t know his achievements and lavish him with pride;

Her deepest fears and secrets, in him she won’t confide.

She will never feel the intimacy of lying in his arms all night,

Learning of his life, his hopes, his dreams,

And putting the world to rights.

She will never be the reason he smiles

And looks forward to another tomorrow,

She’ll never be his solace, his comfort through life’s sorrows.

She won’t share his joy, his pleasure, his bed;

She’ll be haunted evermore by ghosts of words unsaid;

The poems he inspires will never be read.

Soon there’ll be no more goodbyes, and no more hellos,

He’ll live in her heart as he lets her go;

She’ll love him forever, and he’ll never know.

Open Letter To The Therapists.

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*Names changed*

 

Dear James and Sarah,

As my attempt to communicate something to you failed, I choose to tell you in this way. These are the things I wanted to say, but had very little time to do so. Whenever I have written about, talked about, or even just thought about the words I’m about to say to you, I have broken down in tears. I feel so emotional about this, but being in the spotlight in the group, trying to convey how I felt in a short space of time, I couldn’t express the emotion properly. Unfortunately the written word does little to show emotional depth and pain, but I will do my best.

First of all I want to thank you both so much for the help and support you have given me in the last couple of months. My journey on this course has been incredibly tough, as you know. The difficulty I had in the third week was traumatic, and I wouldn’t have blame you if you’d given up on me there and then. So the fact you didn’t, and you gave me another chance to try again, means a lot. I know at times you both might question if you’re helping me… you might think I’m going downhill, and whilst yes, I am finding things a lot tougher right now, the things you tell us each week are slowly sinking in. You’re giving me other options… other ways of thinking. Even something as simple as mindfulness of my body and my breathing is making a difference to my life. I also accept now that my emotions are valid, and whilst they might not require action, they need to be acknowledged, accepted and respected… and allowed to just be, without judgement. I didn’t have this belief before. I don’t think I even had this belief when I did two courses of DBT. So thank you for giving me that help. And for continuing to believe in me after I felt I let myself and you both down.

The second part of what I wanted to say is how attached I have become to you. Sarah I obviously feel attached because of the practical help and treatment you gave me, and continued support. And James, you know I’m transferring on you. I’m not about to lie and say that this is ALL a past problem, it’s not. I am attracted to you, and like you as a person in your own right. This is a present problem as well as a past one. The present problem is being intensified by the links to my past.

When I think about this course ending I’m in tears, because I’m hurtling towards another loss that I don’t want. A goodbye I don’t want to say. I don’t want to lose you James. Whether it makes sense to anyone else; whether people think I’m mad for feeling that way for someone I’ve only known a few weeks, I don’t care. This is the reality of how I’m feeling. And I wish you could help me deal with that feeling. I don’t trust anyone else to do it. I don’t trust them enough to talk to them about this. I need you. I need your help.

This feels like it’s going to be another loss to add to the pile. I’ve had a lot of losses in my life, in the last few years. People I cared about, meant a lot to me, and those I didn’t want to lose from my life. They either hurt me before leaving, or they just vanished on me. Disappeared without a word. They never allowed me to have closure. They never gave me a conversation… a chance to say what I needed to say… and to hear what I needed to hear. When people left my life, I expressed my sadness to them – I told them what I needed to say, and those were the things I needed to hear back. But I never heard anything back. I’d either hear something really unhelpful and uncaring back, or radio silence. Both told me that I didn’t matter…. that my feelings didn’t matter…. that I was worthless and these people never cared about me.

The same will be true of you. I could spout out words until the cows come home, about how much I admire you, like you, care about you, worry about you, think about you, will miss you, will be utterly heartbroken to never see you again…. it’s irrelevant to you. I’m just a number. You will never say anything in response. You will never miss me. In fact you’ll likely be glad to see the back of me! As soon as I’m gone you’ll forget I ever existed. And that is just a mirror of my life. That’s why it hurts so much.

When I care about someone I care to the nth degree. When I fall, I fall hard. When I’m thankful for your existence in my life, I feel like you are a part of me, and the loss of you will rip that part of me out. I can’t help it. I don’t love by halves. I don’t care by thirds. I don’t value by quarters. I’m in 100% or not at all. And with you James I’m 100% attached. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m that messed up in the head and the heart that I feel something for you that I shouldn’t.

Any pain I feel is amplified too, by the level I care about you. If I even detect or perceive rejection from you, it’s like you’ve just kicked me in the heart and it stops beating. If I think about losing you forever, I don’t want to face forever. If I feel ignored by you, I’m a terrible person, nobody cares about me, and I shouldn’t be allowed to speak to people.

Even if you were not married and not a therapist, and even in the most unlikely situation that you even liked me back, there is STILL no way that you could ever feel for me, as strongly as I feel for you. That’s the loneliness of BPD. So to feel that way for you, and have all those obstacles, meaning you feel nothing for me…. it’s so lonely, and so desperate. I feel trapped. Helpless. Hopeless.

I guess my hope was that as a therapist you could help with the transference and GIVE me the closure that nobody ever has. Let me say what I need to. And if needs be just bloody fake saying what I need to hear, in order to heal from the past. But that won’t happen. I sense that. I sense I’m out of my depth… or you guys are with me.

I feel too complex for you. I feel like a burden and like you probably wish you’d never taken me on now. And since I’ve found myself in this tricky situation I kind of feel the same. As I don’t believe you are prepared to help me with this issue, it’s like I’ve come for help and been left with more problems… and I’ll be sent off into the world with it unresolved… feeling worse…. with nobody to help me.

The thought of losing you forever is too much to handle. The group thought I meant them, or the routine of coming to the group. But I meant you James… losing you is agony. It doesn’t have to make sense for it to be valid and true. I don’t cope well with ‘forever’ and ‘never again’. Just a few months ago I lost someone forever…. where it truly is forever. My first major loss. So now any sense of loss I feel is multiplied by that. I was ‘fortunate’ enough to know when the end was coming. He had been deteriorating for eight months before he died. And we knew when the end was near. So not even 48 hours before he passed away, I got the opportunity to sit beside him, stroking his head and telling him everything I needed to – like how proud I was of him, and how thankful I am to be his granddaughter…. that I’d be okay, and if he wanted to go to sleep he could… I told him how much I loved him, and I said goodbye……. But by that time he was unconscious. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t say anything back. All those years of his life when I could have told him I loved him, and heard him say it back, and I didn’t, because I struggle with those words… because I never hear anything back. I chose his deathbed to tell him. And he couldn’t say anything back to me. I don’t even know if he heard me. So although I got closure in the form of saying what I needed to, I have still never had closure in the form of hearing from the people I’m losing. I’ve never had that. I need that. And I wish so much that you could help me get that. Just once in my life.

But I’m now in the mindset, where I think I’ll just shut up for the rest of the course. Get through it, knowing I’m not understood and can’t be helped. I’ll face the crisis at the end, and after that I’ll do whatever I have to do… you won’t care what happens to me anyway. I don’t matter to you like you do to me.

This burden is too hard to bear on my own. But it seems that’s the way it’s got to be. I wish I’d never got into this mess. As much as I appreciate your support, I know it’s not enough for someone like me. I’m scared all it’s doing is waking up my demons, before throwing me out there again to cope with them on my own. That’s more dangerous than leaving them sleeping. I don’t feel safe right now. I don’t feel supported. And I don’t know what to do.

xxxx