I told A all about last week yesterday – the session didn’t feel coherent to me, more jumbled, but I got something out because this morning I feel much calmer and more collected. Of course, sleeping for eight hours probably (definitely) helped.
This morning I woke up to snow everywhere. It’s so beautiful.
Everything feels really uncertain right now. I am trying to hang on to what I know and follow my instincts – the adult ones – that have served me so well this far. I know that I have a husband who loves me and many friends who care. My job is amazing. Yesterday was so messed up and the amount of support I received from co-workers in the form of everything from a hug to a hot chocolate to sushi lunch delivered to my desk was insane. Someone even bought me a float house certificate. And Dave lent me his incredible apartment where I have holed up and retreated.
I know a lot of what I am feeling now is activated from the past. That I’m re-experiencing anxiety and anger and shame that I have carried somewhere for so long. And I know that while I’m not really currently afraid of speaking to my Mother, there is a part of me that is. I know that to move through this I need to expose that part of me to A and let her support me through it and be there. I know that. But I wish that there was more time. I wish that I could pause the current reality (minus the snow) and give my body and mind time to catch up without the present continuing to move forward.
I read A the diary entry, the suicide notes, and the note I had for her. I briefly mentioned what’s going on with my Mom and husband but told her right away that I needed to spend less than five minutes on it and I needed her to stick to that because it would have been such an easy cop out to talking about how I felt last Friday and how I’ve felt since.
It was jumbled and I kind of felt both adult and not and both there and not but I remember her saying this.
“I am here to support you through this. And that support and love isn’t going to go anywhere. I am here for all parts of you and care about them. I’m choosing to be here and I’m not going away.”
“Yes, you are”
“PD, you can push back all you want and all you need to and I would be shocked if you didn’t at some point but I’m not going to. I’m right here”
“Why. I’m stupid and useless and don’t know anything.”
“Oh PD, I want to cover the ears of that little you and protect her from that. You can push back all you want and I’m going to stay. I don’t believe any of those things about you and I’ll believe that you are deserving of love and I will show up for you until you believe it too, and beyond that.”
She does this thing where she will ask me to look at her. She hasn’t done it in a while. I know she does it when she feels like we are disconnected. Yesterday she said “PD, look at me, what do you see.”
And I immediately turned away from her and started to cry. I said “I can’t do that today, I can’t see love and kindness and compassion today.” And she didn’t push it but steered the conversation to my feelings and why that reaction came up.
Later, she asked again. I was decidedly feeling defiant and sarcastic and pushy at this point – very much like “you say you can’t be pushed away well fine let’s try”. And she said again, after I told her she probably hated me, “what do you see PD? Do you see hatred?”
And I said “I see a lamp, and a chair, and a rug, and a Kleenex, and a window”, and she chuckled and went “fair enough. I’m surprised nobody has done that before.”
I resisted connecting with her but her attempts and steady presence and repeated adamance that she loves and cares for all of me and is ready to connect with that teenage part of me when it’s ready to reach out to her – it resonated somewhere. Because this morning I feel calmer and capable. More adult than teen.
If I focus on the present and not all the work that lies ahead, and if I focus on my relationships with people and not their relationships with each other, I feel okay. If I remember to reach out for support then I’m okay too.
It’s okay. This moment is okay. I’m simply going to stay in the present.