There’s so many ways in which that statement is true. I am still here, actively doing the work to heal, to build up my strengths, to care myself for my vulnerable wounded parts. I’m still here, despite dark days and nights when being alive wasn’t at all compelling.
And I’m still here, on WordPress.
I haven’t posted nearly as regularly this past year as I used to. I think it’s probably because I have gradually cultivated more support in real life. I’ve built some friendships that allow me a level of intimacy and authenticity that I never used to have. I have a therapy group, finally, that talks about deep and important and difficult stuff. I also spend significantly less time feeling desperate than I used to, and in those earlier desperate days, I often turned to my blog, the kind people who left comments, and other people’s blogs to find some understanding and companionship.
Since I need it less, I was thinking of giving up the blog. It comes up for renewal for me each year in March, and in January I thought, well, when it comes up this year, I will let it go. I won’t pay for a seventh (!!) year. I’ll thank my readers, wish them well, and remember the blog as a chapter in my life that was valuable, but has ended.
And then, I didn’t do that.
Today I went into my WP account, and instead of cancelling it, I paid up for another year. I can’t even explain exactly why I did that. At some level, I suppose I realized that I am not quite done after all.
There are some big things that still lie before me, and maybe I’m feeling, only semi-consciously, that the blog will continue to serve me as a place that I can write about and work through my emotions. It’s served me well that way in the past.
I mean, really, even with kind friends, I feel hesitant to talk about some things. Who is going to understand that I am deeply attached to E and at the same time am incredibly frustrated with her. I long for her and dislike her–sometimes I hate her and love her. It’s been quite rocky over the past month. Who even understands that, except others who are grappling with complex attachment issues in their own therapy?
And I am about to start working with a new therapist next week (that will be number 12, since the woman leading my art therapy group is number 11). Charo, I’ll call her (I had a good friend named Charo in grad school). I got her name from Lisa, who leads that art therapy group. I had asked her for someone who does EMDR after getting triggered, again, about my relationship with E.
Anyway, I had my complimentary short consultation with Charo earlier this week. It turns out that she did offer EMDR, but she has switched to using brainspotting instead, because she feels it fits her style better and she’s seen it be very effective for clients. Okay, I’m willing to try it. I liked her. She was warm and engaged and seemed very knowledgeable. She didn’t seem surprised or thrown off by anything I said.
The only concern I had was that she told me she has a chronic disease that flares up periodically and makes her unable, sometimes at the last minute, to hold scheduled sessions. I mean, I completely understand that this is out of her control, and she needs and deserves to put her health above everything. I just wonder how it will play out if I feel like I really need her.
On the other hand, I am hoping that I won’t really need her. I hope that I will be able to benefit from the therapy and appreciate her support without being desperate for her in the way I have sometimes felt about E.
Another thing: the pace of my life is shifting again. For a year, it’s been quite slow. In our county in this state, we have been in strict to medium-strict lockdown since this time last March. To say that time slowed down is an understatement. That was hard for a long time. I wasn’t really sad about not having work after June 30, but I also wasn’t sure what to do with myself. I started to feel better when I threw myself whole-heartedly into paper crafting at the end of summer or early in the fall. I’ve been loving that.
But now I have two work contracts again, and I actually need to have a schedule and have to get things done. Also, my family and I are fully vaccinated, and bit by bit our family and friends are getting vaccinated too, so perhaps we’ll start to be more social again. I welcome this, but frankly, I am also not sure I want everything to go back the way it was. It’s okay with me if life stays a bit slower than it used to be, especially if I can still maybe go on a hike or go to the beach or see a good friend.
That means I will be dealing with a new therapy and new therapist, work again, change in pace and routines… and most importantly, I really feel that things with E and me are headed in a hard direction. Some days, like today, I feel close to screaming at her, “Why are you talking like this to me? It’s not helping!”
So, I am still here, and will be for at least another year, writing out my heart and my healing. Thanks for reading, and special thanks to those who take the time to comment. It’s immensely validating and means so much.