So last night, in my session (sounds better than “therapy”), we talked about what I needed to do to heal and what’s been happening over the past week. Quick overview of the last 7 days: stayed holed up in my house; went to a party, freaked out; saw his cologne, freaked out; saw his friend, freaked out. Do we see a pattern here? Oh I’m also easily aggravated and if you say one word, which I’m not too sure which word(s) that could/would be, I will sob for minutes. Sob, not cry.
She asked me to visualize him and tell him what I need to say. I cried. No, I mascara-running-down-my-face sobbed. I can’t picture him without the pain. I want to scream at him and tell him “I HAAAATE YOU. I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!!!!!!!” a million times over. I want to hit him, I want to hurt him. I WANT to hate him in every way possible.
I don’t hate anything. Dislike, yes. Extremely dislike…sure, sometimes. But hate, it’s a strong and meaningful word. A Proceed With Caution word.
So over the next two weeks, in order to overcome this, I need to write a letter to him (only for myself of course, will never actually send it) stating everything I want to say to him. *Exhale* This task will take a lot of thinking and heartache, I’m incredibly scared and overwhelmed by it.
I also need to share what I’m going through with another great friend. This person has been in the dark about my situation for 7 years. I don’t think I’ve ever told him much about it, maybe nothing at all. He has no idea what I’m going through right now or why I’ve exhausted so much energy into pushing him away for the last couple/few years, depending on how you look at it. Shamefully, until last night, I was unaware of my own disgrace at having him near me. I’ve always been too embarrassed to tell him about it, too meek to tell him not to jokingly call me names, too weak to tell him it hurts. It’s not his fault, he doesn’t know. It’s my own for not sharing my pain with my oldest friend.
I have asked myself many times if I think he’ll understand, how I think he’ll treat me after, and what will the changes in our friendship be after I share my story. I currently have no answers for this. I just know if I don’t tell him soon, someday, because of my own doing and his lack of knowledge, I will walk out of his life. I will offer no reason as to why, I just will. I need to find the internal strength to face him soon. If I trace my emotions inside me through my esophagus, past my heart, and into my gut, where my strength lies, I cannot feel it, I cannot find my strength. Not today. Not yesterday. Maybe tomorrow, or within the tomorrows to come.
I must also work on my ability to disassociate myself from others and situations happening around me. This disassociation happens so quickly I’m not aware of it until I, quite literally, feel myself struggling to get back to the moment. It kind of feels like the moment you realize you can’t hold your breath any longer under water and it’s time to surface; but you know you must surface quickly or you risk drowning. Yes, that’s the feeling, only instead it’s my thoughts. If I don’t concentrate back on the moment I’m in asap, will I get back there? Or will I be forever stuck in a state of an inability to care, to feel, to move on, and to be whole?
In order to come out of this it requires physical feeling. Pressing of nails into my palm. Feeling my toes touching my socks. Feeling the air escape my lungs. Feel. I’d rather not, thank you.
She asked me to visualize him and tell him what I need to say. I cried. No, I mascara-running-down-my-face sobbed. I can’t picture him without the pain. I want to scream at him and tell him “I HAAAATE YOU. I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!!!!!!!” a million times over. I want to hit him, I want to hurt him. I WANT to hate him in every way possible.
I don’t hate anything. Dislike, yes. Extremely dislike…sure, sometimes. But hate, it’s a strong and meaningful word. A Proceed With Caution word.So over the next two weeks, in order to overcome this, I need to write a letter to him (only for myself of course, will never actually send it) stating everything I want to say to him. *Exhale* This task will take a lot of thinking and heartache, I’m incredibly scared and overwhelmed by it.
I also need to share what I’m going through with another great friend. This person has been in the dark about my situation for 7 years. I don’t think I’ve ever told him much about it, maybe nothing at all. He has no idea what I’m going through right now or why I’ve exhausted so much energy into pushing him away for the last couple/few years, depending on how you look at it. Shamefully, until last night, I was unaware of my own disgrace at having him near me. I’ve always been too embarrassed to tell him about it, too meek to tell him not to jokingly call me names, too weak to tell him it hurts. It’s not his fault, he doesn’t know. It’s my own for not sharing my pain with my oldest friend.
I have asked myself many times if I think he’ll understand, how I think he’ll treat me after, and what will the changes in our friendship be after I share my story. I currently have no answers for this. I just know if I don’t tell him soon, someday, because of my own doing and his lack of knowledge, I will walk out of his life. I will offer no reason as to why, I just will. I need to find the internal strength to face him soon. If I trace my emotions inside me through my esophagus, past my heart, and into my gut, where my strength lies, I cannot feel it, I cannot find my strength. Not today. Not yesterday. Maybe tomorrow, or within the tomorrows to come.
I must also work on my ability to disassociate myself from others and situations happening around me. This disassociation happens so quickly I’m not aware of it until I, quite literally, feel myself struggling to get back to the moment. It kind of feels like the moment you realize you can’t hold your breath any longer under water and it’s time to surface; but you know you must surface quickly or you risk drowning. Yes, that’s the feeling, only instead it’s my thoughts. If I don’t concentrate back on the moment I’m in asap, will I get back there? Or will I be forever stuck in a state of an inability to care, to feel, to move on, and to be whole?
In order to come out of this it requires physical feeling. Pressing of nails into my palm. Feeling my toes touching my socks. Feeling the air escape my lungs. Feel. I’d rather not, thank you.
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