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Bled White

I am trying really hard. I had a session with one of the potential new therapists, L, this morning and it just didn’t feel right. I was really upset when I arrived and had only had 4 1/2 hours sleep despite meds, and pretty much the first thing I said was how I just don’t want to be having to do any of this. She was SO NOT K. And I do get that nothing will compare to her right now, that she is the only person who can possibly soothe us even a little, and that probably I won’t find anyone else who we do such deep and intense work with anyway because our needs have changed. She said some validating things about what I am losing and how huge it is, like losing a parent. And she has flexible boundaries around outside contact which is reassuring. But it still didn’t feel right. And when I spoke to the other potential therapist last Friday it did feel like it could one day be okay with her. Even over the phone we felt heard and validated and it settled the system a little bit. I am meeting the other therapist, A, on 27th June so not for a while. This feels kind of stressful as it’s a long time to wait to find out if she would be willing to work with me, has space for a trauma client at this point in time, would be able to offer some kind of between session contact, and could work on my timescale for transition. And whilst I could work with L short-term I think, if I needed containing, I cannot imagine doing deep work with her. So it feels like a lot depends upon A. I know I do still have K, for another 6 1/2 months if I want her (health permitting) and she is still here, holding me. I miss her so much. Holding out for the Friday email and also wondering whether to ask her to come and see me singing with my choir next Friday evening (nothing could hurt more than this right, so if she says no it would make no difference?!). Having her see us all doing something in ‘our real life’ that is such a huge part of who we all are would be magical and healing and wonderful. It is not beyond the realms of the impossible that she would say yes, but I am probably too scared to ask and get rejected.

So like I said, I am trying really hard. I was meant to be on annual leave next week to decorate my room and sort stuff at home, but as I’m off this week I’m going to paint my room (with my Dad’s help – more shame!) tomorrow and Friday so next week can be spent trying to care for myself ready for returning to work. I still can’t believe this is happening. The minute I’m alone after being with people the grief and panic hits again and I find myself sobbing helplessly, overcome with all that is and will be lost. It is so draining, so all-consuming. I want to wrap myself up in blanket and hide and instead tonight I have to go to meet my daughter’s new teachers and chat to other Mum’s – not my favourite kind of Wednesday evening at the best of times.

This beautiful song by Elliott Smith, which was on repeat when I was 15 (Phoebe’s age, there’s a lot of Phoebe around at the moment, but she’s more in the background than last night thank goodness) is playing over in my head a lot today.

Yesterday dreaming’s just a waste of time,

Cause I’ll have to be high, to drag this sunset down.

And paint this paling town.

Bled white.


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