In the aftermath, I was happy and glowing. I shared my breakthrough with two people. Not fiancé though. Some part of me wanted to see if he noticed a difference at all. That backfired. He’s been cranky with me and I, in return, have been snippy back. But how, exactly, is he supposed to know what’s going on if I am not talking to him about it? For that matter, why aren’t I talking to him about it?
In the aftermath, I’m tired and not feeling well but I did manage to get 8 hours of sleep last night. I am aiming for that again. I also scheduled four more yoga therapy sessions. Only one in October but then weekly for the first while in November. I can’t afford A twice a week, so yoga once and A once will have to start to do.
In the aftermath, I have yet to take a sip of alcohol. But my God, I want to. Drinking would make this more bearable. Drinking would numb this pain. These feelings. The happiness and hope and the sadness and grief. The anger. Opposites and new emotions and all of them at once. I am on sensory overload. And I don’t know how one appropriately reacts to any of this.
In the aftermath of yesterday’s breakthrough, I’ve felt different. Newer. Shinier in some ways. In other ways I feel like there’s sewage just leaking out of the hole we have created in the fortress. Usually my lemmings would be trying to fix it, to patch it up, but we are just watching it from afar. Being observant from a nearby hill. The fortress is coming down.
In the aftermath I am grieving. I am grieving hard. I spent 28 years aching through my whole body for love and compassion and understanding like A showed me yesterday. Love I should have had every. single. time I felt angry and sad and upset and confused as a child. Love I did not get. Love I now have to provide myself.
In the aftermath, I’m exhausted.
In the aftermath I both very much want to see A, and very much don’t want to go back there. She feels safe and not safe. She feels like home to this new me but also foreign and dangerous. 51% of me wants to be there, 49% of me does not. I know who will win but I don’t know who will show up.
In the aftermath I am happy, but there is this layer of sadness. This heavy, achy feeling that won’t leave me alone. There is so much uncertainty. What am I supposed to do with all these feelings that want to be seen and heard all of a sudden. I feel like a mom with eight kids, all of whom want her simultaneous attention… except all those kids are tiny versions of me hurting in different ways. I can’t help them all at once and I don’t even know if I can help them at all. There is one who doesn’t want my help, or A’s help. There is one who hates us for this.
In the aftermath, I’m having panic attacks. Moments of hyperventilation when I think about being betrayed by A, or that yesterday wasn’t real, that it was a dream and A won’t know what I’m talking about if I bring it up. I almost have myself convinced it wasn’t real. I have had to gather myself and sit in a corner and actually hyperventilate in a boardroom at the idea that that was a one off and I will never get all this emotion out but now I know how good it feels to release it. So wouldn’t that suck. Or this fear that I won’t be able to get there again or I will screw up yet again at this real opportunity for healing with someone I trust. Or this fear that I imagined it. I am afraid that it isn’t enough or that I am not good enough or didn’t do it properly… and I am desperately afraid of feeling that way again even though I now know I can survive it. Yet I wouldn’t trade all this feeling for the numbness of before.
In the aftermath I’m losing my ability to process this. In the aftermath, I’m closing up again. I can feel it. I don’t want to close down. I want to move through.
In the aftermath, I wonder how A knew. I wonder how she knew it was coming, that I couldn’t stop it, that I wasn’t going to be able to drift away and numb out. I wonder at how expertly she navigated that entire situation. How she knew when to move closer, how she knew when to push and when to be silent. If she was guessing at it I had no idea. And I marvel at our relationship and am overwhelmed with gratitude.
In the aftermath, I can’t help but wonder if that experience was as powerful for A as it was for me. Or if she got anything out of it. Otherwise it feels too unequal, like I didn’t give anything to her.
In the aftermath, I can’t help but hope that I can get back there, to release more. I need it to happen again but I know I can’t force it and I also know that I cant wait another 6 months.
Because in the aftermath I have found new layers of pain, betrayal, and grief, that I didn’t know existed before. Yesterday was only the tip of the iceberg. There are old memories coming back and along with them so much feeling. They want out.
And In the aftermath, that both terrifies me, and gives me hope.