I need you

I thought I’d turned a corner yesterday. Maybe I had, but today I’m back in the abyss. I cannot survive without seeing K all these months. I don’t want to survive. I’d finally reached a place where all the parts trusted her and felt safe with her, where we had begun to take for granted that we would see her every Monday, where we trusted that she wouldn’t go away and didn’t want to leave us, and now this f*cking virus is keeping us apart.

I honestly want to die. I can’t see how this is going to get better. I don’t want to think about how a world after this pandemic could look because it could be one in which weekly therapy isn’t a thing and there is no way I am ready to lose her yet, on the back of this change that has been so abrupt and so all-consuming. The sense of permanency I had begun to trust was only ever an illusion though – it has been ripped away in a way I never expected, years before I expected society as we knew it to end.

K and I did a phone session today. I have big stuff going on because I’ve heard through my sister that my disabled brother is really, really struggling with isolation and the loss of his routine. I don’t see him because he lives with my mum but I love him so much and my heart is breaking for him. K and I talked about this a lot and I know she gets it, knows this is a long-running story, knows how complex and gut-wrenchingly sad it is. My family is a broken mess and a global pandemic shows up all the cracks and things that can never be mended. ‘I just want to see you’ I wailed and as she said ‘I know’ I could feel her holding me in all this. But it doesn’t change the fact that for 4 and a half years when things have been this bad I have been able to see her, every week and more, whatever I’ve needed. And now I can’t reach her.

She says we’ll review the support, that I might need more, things might change in a month and I need more support – ‘A MONTH!!!’ I wanted to scream. The truth is it will be so much longer than that. It is unsurvivable.

Young parts are screaming and wailing. I cannot hold them. I’ve cried all afternoon. I’ve run out of space to cut on my thighs and I think about cutting my arms, which I’ve not done since before I was pregnant. I don’t know how to get through this. I’m scared of the distance that could grow between K and I. Young parts aren’t getting what they need from her but worse is if they give up and disappear. That’s always when things get very bad for them, when they go quiet. I’m scared of needing K like this the whole time we must be apart but I’m just as scared of stopping needing her, of cutting off and my brain wiping her away so I can’t remember her at all. I’m scared my brain will erase all memory of her, like it has before, and that without seeing her I’ll never find my way back to her.

I don’t know how to do this and I wish I did.

10 thoughts on “I need you”

  1. So sorry to hear of your added pressure with the distress about your brother. This is a hard enough time without having extras like that; I’m really sorry you’re going through this.
    I can imagine it feels like life will always be like this, even though we know it actually won’t. The truth is a day can feel like a month and a month can feel like a year, and it can feel like it won’t ever be different, even though historically we known things do change eventually.
    I can really understand your concern that things won’t be the same, but I can’t tell whether K has ever indicated this or whether it’s purely fear talking? Right now I can’t believe we’re in this place socially and I think it’s going to hit me on Monday with my first ever Skype. I was finding it hard enough to last the week and this I anticipate to be much worse. So I think I get a little bit of what you’re saying here and I wish I could change it for both of us!

    I honestly might set myself a date and count down to it, a bit like Robinson Crusoe notching a post or something 🤪Then if I am wrong I’ll have to reset the date and count down a bit more again. I don’t know why numbers feel they might help, even if I can’t realistically predict them! Wish I had the answers… but all I can do is offer my sincere support and understanding at such a hard time.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Thank you for being so kind. It really helped to read your words. I wanted to do a countdown too but I couldn’t because we just don’t know how long it could be (K has asthma which further complicates things) so instead we (young parts) are doing a chart of ‘days in isolation and not seeing K’ (Nina and I have been self-isolating since the morning after K and I last met) so it at least feels like we are moving forward… I am sending love and strength to you x

      Liked by 3 people

  2. I am in the same boat.. I thought I would split apart when my therapist told me she was going remote for our two days a week sessions…. I am coping but it sounds like this is super distressing for you… so I am sorry you are going through it.. its deeply painful….

    Liked by 3 people

  3. I think everyone is struggling with isolation but those of us with mental illness it can be pure panic. Feelings of abandonment, rejection, and loss of support feels like loss of love…on and on. Change in of itself brings so much panic and EVERYTHING keeps changing daily. BUT, all that doesn’t change the fact that K isn’t abandoning you (even though it feels like it), K does still love you and wants to support you. But I know holding on to that moment by moment is terribly difficult. Please know you are in my thoughts moment by moment. And please keep sharing.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Thank you for SUCH a kind comment. It really helps so much to know others out there understand and care. I hope you are holding up ok in the face of all of this xx

      Liked by 1 person

  4. My first tela-counseling happened last week and I refused to speak for the first hour and 20 minutes. Then there was a moment of break through the last 10 minutes. Ugh..we’ll see how this week goes. Its so hard to “read” someone when you can only see their face….and it’s sooo hard to feel that caring. But he asked me to hang on, keep showing up, keep trying and we’ll get through this tough spot. Thanks so much for sharing the way you do. Yes, we’re in this together.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. I’m so sorry to hear that, it sounds really painful. I think your T is right – hang in there. I actually find phone sessions more connecting than Skype, I don’t know why but it’s like I/we can feel in to the care better by just focusing on K’s voice and what is happening in our body. We also joke that she listens very carefully ‘with all her ears’! It’s still not face-to-face but it can be very deeply connecting for us. Just an idea of something that could work for you instead of video calls xx

      Liked by 3 people

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