That’s what I wanted to tell J in therapy today. I didn’t. It sounded too ridiculous even in my own head. But it is really the best analogy for the stuck and helpless place I’ve got myself into.
I’ve not been writing much, and I can’t say why. I haven’t been engaging with friends much either, and I have totally lost whatever it was I got from my CoDA fellowship. Predominantly, I have been apathetic. And lazy. I feel like nothing much is going to make me feel any better, so why bother with it when I can numb out in front of the TV instead.
The TV is safer. I don’t need to take risks or be vulnerable or make an effort. I can just stare blankly and wait somewhat impatiently for it to be late enough to get into bed. That means I have got through another day. Another one chalked off. And I can be unconscious for a while then. That’s what I look forward to the most. I am literally wishing my life away because being awake feels too awful.
I guess I have said that all before. I’ve been here before. I have felt despair and hopelessness and grief and anger. All of it and more. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to fight off suicidal urges on a daily basis. But that doesn’t make it easier to feel so weak and broken down. The helplessness I feel right now is devastating.
Hence that woodlouse analogy. It’s like I am stuck here and no matter how much I kick out, the laws of nature mean I am never going to get myself going again. I’m completely immobile. And I am desperate for someone to come along, like I would if one of these critters were stuck, and turn me up the right way.
I want so badly for somebody to gently pick me up and place me back on my feet. I can’t do it for myself. And I know if I don’t start helping myself this is only going to go one way.
It’s not right to have to keep revisiting rock bottom. I’m angry that I couldn’t just learn from it the first time and make damn sure I wasn’t going back there. But I feel I’m millimetres from that place again today. Nothing feels OK. I am overwhelmed to the point of paralysis. Work is incredibly challenging, family is tough as always, I’m having a huge crisis of trust with friends, and therapy – well that’s not helping.
I needed therapy to strengthen me in recent weeks, as I was spending a lot of time with my family for my sister’s wedding. Instead, I had this horrendous session that was interrupted by someone I thought might walk into the room. It triggered some painful, frightening old feelings for me and massively destablised how I feel about therapy and my relationship with J.
I hated going to my sessions this week, but J is going on leave soon and I wanted to try and feel better about it before that break. I need to find a way to rebuild my trust in her; my trust that I am safe there and that it’s OK to be vulnerable. Because I don’t feel that now. I am scared of being humiliated and exposed. I’ve lost confidence in J’s ability to protect me and keep the space secure. It’s a horrible feeling, to have lost that assumed safety I’ve had there for several years now. It almost feels like grief, this sad sense of having lost something irreplaceable.
Without therapy, without that space to safely be how I need to be, I feel squashed. I feel a massive pressure building and my instinct is to retreat from everything and hide myself away. Withdraw and be isolated, but protected. Alone with the feelings, but not at risk of my weakness being seen. I am afraid of so many things. I am small and vulnerable and exhausted. I just don’t know how long I can carry on feeling like this.