Tag Archives: I miss you

Dear one of my first therapists…

Dear JF,
do you remember me?  If I called with questions, would you 1) be willing to talk to me about them? 2) even remember anything about me from that long ago?
Things have come up, and I wonder if they are true. Would you at least be able to tell me if I mentioned it to you?
You would probably not be surprised to find out I’m still a mess. I have not made anything out of my life. I’m still pathetic and a looser…
would you want to know I still remember you? Would you care that stuff you said still impacts me in a positive way? Would it be weird if I told you that first time you hugged me and didn’t let me go right away both scared me and made me feel like someone cared for the first time in a long time? I hope I didn’t contaminate you… I hope your daughters are doing well. I’m not sure why I think you have 2, because I’m not sure how I would know you had a second one… I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything but cry when you told me you were pregnant. I really did think you’d make a great mom…
if I tried to contact you with my questions, would you respond at all even if you didn’t know the answers?
Should I take the risk? I think I could leave you a voice mail if I could dig up your contact info… but I’d be afraid to tell you that I’m still stuck, that I didn’t do anything meaningful with myself.  I’m still a failure, and any accomplishments listed under my name feel fake. I have no connection to them, I was faking it all along. Apparently I could fool everyone enough to let me graduate and find jobs and move ahead. I guess I’m really good at faking it. Still haven’t made it though. Don’t want to have to admit that, because you tried so hard to get me to believe in myself. 😦
would you believe I finally admitted to myself that the DuckBoy stuff wasn’t my choice, and wasn’t ok? It took 18 years, but I’m starting to deal with it. I remember talking to you about it, and you trying to tell me it wasn’t ok and it wasn’t my fault… I finally believe you (most of the time)…
I lost the little glass stone you gave me “for protection, even from [myself]”… I didn’t mean to. It slipped out of my pocket and into the space next to the emergency break in my car. I tore the car apart looking for it (literally. some pieces don’t fit right anymore. Oops). I still have this sliver of hope that I will find it some day. I might pay someone to dismantle the car so I can double-check everywhere…
thank you for believing in me, and for putting up with me even when I’m sure you wished you could pound sense into me…
I miss you a lot sometimes. Now is one of those times…
hope you are well. You may get a message from me, though I’m not sure I would ask for a call back because I’m afraid I wouldn’t get one. I’m not memorable for anything good, so you are probably really happy I’m long gone…
anyway. Yeah. I miss you.
Thanks for all you did. It really did make a difference, even if it didn’t look like it at the time…
-sam

 

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(I left a message at her office. here’s hoping she will return the call and maybe be able to help out with my questions…)

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well that was a first…

for the first time in my entire history, I spaced on a therapy appointment today.  I never miss appointments without extenuating circumstances, and never simply because I forgot, except for today.  I was sitting there bopping to my music and making jewelry when my phone rings (rudely interrupting my very bad singing).  I recognize the number as the one De calls in from, so I answer, still thinking nothing of it.  We get through our greeting, and then she tells me I had an appointment with her today.  She said she was wondering what happened because I call even if I’m only going to be 5 minutes late.  In my defense, we have had our weekly meetings on Fridays since the holidays.  I apologized to her and promised nothing was wrong, but I just forgot that we had switched to Thursday this week.  Luckily, she has time tomorrow.  This would have been the last appointment before a 3 week break.  I’m still kicking myself.  Either I’ve got nothing urgent to talk about, or I’m in massive denial about the stress next week’s changes mean (or some combination of both).  Mostly, I think it’s denial.  Next week, L and I head up north.  I will be going for 6 days, but she will be staying up there to try to get us re-established.  We have not packed much beyond 2 boxes.  there’s still laundry to do, and plans to be made for how to get myself and the “kids” back there… and there’s no plan for how my days will be spent once I no longer have L around to pass the time.  We are refusing to look at all this stuff, because it’s hugely scary (but also exciting).  We don’t have the best track record for cross-country moves that actually accomplish what we set out to do.  So now what?  Panic has yet to set in.  Even a sense of urgency might be helpful (less than a week…). I also have yet to “realize” that today’s session with J was our final one.  It was the same as all the others.  I didn’t make much of an effort to say goodbye, though I know I should have.  The only thing different this time was that we hugged before leaving, and we did not make any further appointments or plans to meet up.  I’m sure it will all hit at some point either this week, or when I get back on the 20th to find that “normal” no longer is.

Too many goodbyes recently.  I don’t like it.  Too much loss coming up and resurfacing.  I’m trying not to realize that we effectively re-homed one of our cats (the one who is miserable here and much prefers living with the older couple down the street).  The loss of Twiggy hit again today when a box of her specialized food arrived from the vet today.  I guess they automatically send out “samples” of the specialized food when the test results warrant it.  Too bad it’s 2 weeks too late… I miss Twig.  I know she was hurting a lot before she was put to sleep, but I still miss her presence in the house.  It’s ok to miss the ones you love, even if their passing is for the better. And now I will miss Danny too, though he is still alive.

So I’ve spent my days obsessing with jewelry-making, art, and spending money we don’t have on things we don’t need because it’s easier than dealing with crap that is about to slam us.  I’m playing games on the computer and on my phone that I have not touched in weeks.  I make every effort to leave the house when I can get away with it.  I throw myself in to everything but the things that need addressing.  Heck, I’m even working on random therapy stuff to avoid dealing with other, more looming, more frightening things.  J has a quote she has told us many times in the last 2 months: “if you are just scared, you don’t want it enough. if you are just excited, you already have it, if you are both scared and excited, it’s worth it” (or that’s the gist of it).  I think I’ve draped a thick blanket over everything because I’m neither consciously scared or excited about this, I’m simply going with it because that is what we have decided to do, and there is no real other option.  If I look into myself hard enough, I see the fear and the excitement I’m trying so hard to ignore.  I catch glimpses of it in the tears of loss, and the avoidance.  I notice it in my drive to push every thought of it out of my head (because, really, who wants to realize that within the week they will be separated from their significant other for several months, or think of having to uproot everything they cultivated in the last 18 months).  I throw myself into anything and everything that enables me to push the thoughts away.  It will catch up real soon, but for now, I rival the skill-set of those most versed in denial and avoidance.


RIP Twiggy…

Yesterday she took a turn for the worse.  It was decided that she’s just suffering needlessly, and we can’t do anything to make her better at this point. Mom took her this morning… this was the first time in my life I chose not to go. The humane society doesn’t let you be with your pet when they euthanize them, so what would the point have been other than torturing myself? I cuddled her before she left, and told her I loved her… and I cried.

She was the third pet to go this week. Every 2 days… :(…

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