I have had to work a lot and struggle with how one single silly word can totally send me OTT.
Unfortunately the word is not always the same and so I cant always predict when it hits me in the face.
There is a beautiful rock pool in Hyde Park where I lost my long necked turtle when I was 9. I was devastated, but also had to accept it was probably happier living there than in our room.
I am also a foetal position rocker and weird noise maker. I did primal in the 80s and being in my body was encouraged back then. I think it is pretty healthy all other coping styles considered.
Who is watching the ocean tonight @Former-Member? The waves are giant. They come so often these days. They are waves of hopelessness and despair over my spectacular lack of success in finding someone to help me fix my brain. How can it be that I found both K and my turtle whisperer...and yet neither of them are in a position to help me fix my brain? It is now twenty-seven months and twelve therapists since the final great show-down with Fred. How do I hang onto any hope?
Fred always told me that he was the only one who would stay and he was right. I know now that I will never again be as safe as I was with him. Yes he was abusive, but he was THERE. He STAYED. Now I am utterly alone in the world.
I feel afraid. Can it really be considered a pathological fear of abandonment when the objective reality is that everybody really and truly does leave? I have been thinking a lot lately about how if I died, there is no-one who would claim my body. To me, at this point in my life, this is the epitome of social isolation. And the reality is that it isn't going to change. This is my world. And yes, I can hear it already, people trying to tell me that I don't know the future etc etc ad nauseum. But the thing is, you don't know my story. You don't know the very deepest core of my muddle. Everybody starts off by challenging my beliefs about the future, but then as the story unfolds, they start to be lost for words and there are long pauses rather than platitudes.
My turtle whisperer is just starting to get her head around the story. It is the process of telling it to her, along with a major event of a few weeks ago, that together are making the hopelessness of my situation particularly salient at the moment.
This particular part of my muddle is not fixable. What I need is to somehow create a life worth living in spite of this bit. And in order to do that, the thing I need most in the whole world is that one person in my corner. Just one. I simply need one. How can it possibly be that my turtle whisperer is RIGHT THERE, and yet can't commit to being that one person. How does anyone live with that? How do I live with that?
@CheerBear can I please snuggle in your pocket while you sit in your blanket in your nest in my cave at the bottom of the raging ocean? I so superly duperly love that we, along with @Zoe7, can do DBT together but not.
@Former-Member can you please come and sit in my underwater cave with me? I'm scared. I know that the waves of hopelessness can't hurt me, but what about the objective reality of my situation??? How many more re-traumatizing experiences with how many less-than-ideal therapists am I going to have to go through to find another turtle whisperer? How many more can my already-notably-fried brain survive? I'm scared.
Thank you for sitting with me in my muddle.
Help us push aside the stigma and discrimination surrounding complex mental health and change the way people talk about, and care for, mental illness.
SANE acknowledges the Traditional Owners of Country throughout Australia and recognises the continuing connection to lands, waters and communities. We pay our respect to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures; and to Elders past and present.
SANE values diversity. We are committed to providing a safe, culturally appropriate, and inclusive service for all people, regardless of their ethnicity, faith, disability, sexuality, or gender identity.
Help us push aside the stigma and discrimination surrounding complex mental health and change the way people talk about, and care for, mental illness.
SANE acknowledges the Traditional Owners of Country throughout Australia and recognises the continuing connection to lands, waters and communities. We pay our respect to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures; and to Elders past and present.
SANE values diversity. We are committed to providing a safe, culturally appropriate, and inclusive service for all people, regardless of their ethnicity, faith, disability, sexuality, or gender identity.