I Have No Words

TW: suicide attempt (not my own, in case you’re worried and can’t read this due to TW)

I don’t have words. I didn’t in session either. I started by telling her things are legitimately okay, and they are. They still are. And then I let her listen to the recording after we talked about that for a bit – we talked about dance, and hot yoga, and how it hurt to know she was more excited for me than my own mother. And how there is a lot to work on still but I am becoming my own advocate – there is space for trying new things and figuring out who PD is.

For those of you who watch Gilmore Girls, you’ll know the scene, but for those of you who don’t..  there is a Grandma, a Mom, and a daughter. The Mom grew up in a stifling environment. And in this scene the Mom is going “do I even like Pop tarts? Or was I told that I didn’t like Pop tarts so I had to like them because it made her mad? What did I miss out on because I was making decisions based off of her?” And she is referring to her Mother. And I shared this with A, who said there couldn’t be a more perfect metaphor. I was told I had to like ballet, but I was told the other dance types were bad. And now I’m trying them. And if I like them, great. And if I don’t, I don’t. But I’m exploring. 

We talked about investing in my own health and I told her how maybe I don’t have to live by a set of rules, that maybe I don’t need to restrict my life to following a set of guidelines and that maybe I can go by my gut and she said “that sounds like new information to you” and I’m like “it is” because it genuinely is! And she was happy and we chatted and I told her about the recording and how vulnerable it felt to share. And we worked with that a bit and then we talked about the recording and I played it (I think she cried but I don’t know for sure, if she did she was good at hiding it after I finally looked at her again).

But the part in the recording where I say “I saw the moment you realized I was right, and that your son needed more help than you could give him” is directly from the night my brother attempted suicide for the first time. A pool of his blood on the floor. All I wanted was a glass of water. And I found him killing himself. And my Dad went off in the ambulance. And I had been warning my parents for weeks that he was being weird and I SAW the moment that she decided to go after him – she weighed her options between me and the door.And she left me alone in that blood stained kitchen.

Comment Disclaimer: My defence mechanisms and coping mechanisms are still so high and I am so raw and so don’t any of you insult my mother. I don’t want to hear about how irresponsible she was in that moment or how she wasn’t thinking – I know those things. She was doing the best she could. However, her best was leaving me abandoned. And only I get to be really pissed about that right now. 

And I told A this – about that memory – and how alone and raw and young I felt. She was like “that’s how you felt then, that makes sense. But you’re not alone right now, and you’re not going to be crushed by those emotions that feel so big and like you’re incapable of handling them” and she was trying to get me to feel into those body memories and I could but I couldn’t and it was so fucking hard, and so painful, and so I kept trying to push her away and she worked with it.

what does it feel like”

“I don’t know. I don’t have words for it. I cant describe it.”

“That may actually be a good thing, PD. Tell me what you can.”

“I feel like a coiled spring.”


“All over”

“Be more specific.”

My legs. My torso. But especially that center part and my legs. Like I’m coiled to strike or to run.”

“Notice it.”

I kept shaking my head. All I could think (I didn’t share this with her) was “I have to clean up. I have to clean up. I have to clean up.” And it was getting really loud.We didn’t get to releasing it, experiencing the emotion fully. It was too much and eventually I said “I can’t. I just can’t right now.” And she said “OK, that’s okay. I accept that.” 

My God what an exhausting session.

I am trembling and hyperventilating on the train station platform. I’m not in any danger of harming myself, but I feel like I’ve been stabbed in the stomach, and like I’m the one bleeding out everywhere but I’m being walked by.

She worked with me to ground but I couldn’t meet her where she was. I’m okay, but I’m not. Going there is hard. Healing that is going to be hard. Integrating that, is going to be hard. And coming to see her knowing we are going there to try to integrate that, is really hard. 

But I’m at a place where I can cope and be an adult with adult coping mechanisms and skills. I have finished my train ride now – editing this post waiting for the bus – and I’m breathing normally again. I will take tonight and probably part of tomorrow to be really gentle with myself, and them I will be okay. The present is different from the past and I am able to be aware of that. I can separate my feelings, and I feel secure in my connection with A. As she said,

It didn’t have to be traumatic, but it was, because no adult attended to you. The injury was made due to lack of connection. And connection and witness to that pain is going to heal that, PD. But be mindful of the words you use. Don’t dismiss yourself. You have every right to be feeling all you are. And I know it’s painful, I know. But it won’t be forever. And you have been here for a year and even though that voice that says you can’t trust me and that narrative that says it isn’t okay is still strong, we’re adding to the other side of the equation countless times where you are heard, and where it is okay”.

It’s going to be OK. Currently I am okay. I am a grown woman, I am going home to my husband, I’m going to make steak. It’s okay. 

It’s going to be a process and I don’t have words for it yet, but I will. I will. I have to believe I will. 


13 thoughts on “I Have No Words

  1. I totally get that being okay and not okay at the same time. To me it means that you are handeling the not okay part the best you can. I am glad you are going to be gentle with yourself. Major work was done and you were heard.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You will definitely find words. I’m imagining right now maybe you feel so many different things, it’s hard to explain. I’m proud of you for going there to that place and trying to work through this. It isn’t easy, it’s incredibly hard but you’re doing it. Slowly, and that’s okay because you are doing it. I’m really proud of you. Keep taking care of yourself and be gentle. You will integrate that part, and like you’ve told me, your body and mind won’t give you more than you can handle.

    Liked by 1 person

    • She told me at one point it was probably better I couldn’t find the words because then I couldn’t explain it away and was forced to feel it.

      I appreciate that you told me what I tell you all the time. You’re right, it’s why I stopped when I felt things starting to spiral and self harm felt like it was an option. I told her I couldn’t do anymore. It makes me feel safe that she respects that.

      Liked by 1 person

      • She said I’m a wordsmith and have made sense of my world through language but resisted emotion for so long, and so she had to redirect me less when I can’t find words to explain it away.

        Liked by 1 person

      • I can see that based on your blogs and emails. It makes a lot of sense to me and it’s relatable for me. The whole intellectualization process, either through language or whatever it is I do, it made things safe for us.

        Liked by 1 person

  3. While I’m not happy with your mother (that’s coming from a place that feels caring and defensive of you), I can totally empathize with why you added that disclaimer, and I want you to know that I wouldn’t want to say hateful things about her. She is still your mother, just like my mother is still my mother. And, as T has told me, “Your mother is a human being, wounded in her own way, and just as deserving of love and care as the rest of us – AND, that doesn’t excuse the fact that she hurt you, deeply, even if she didn’t mean to, and whatever feelings you have about that – about her – are okay. They may seem to conflict, but they really can exist all at once, and it’s okay.”
    That helped me some, for what it’s worth.
    This is such difficult material and it’s a huge leap of faith for you to be willing to broach these topics with A. You may feel like you’re taking baby step after baby step, but you know what? You can climb a mountain with enough baby steps…
    Keep on climbing, PD (and feel free to take breaks as needed). The view will be worth it, and we are all here cheering you on. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you Lily. I was writing this from a really in between place and knew I wouldn’t handle anybody questioning her or turning on her in any way. And she is wounded in her own way and sometimes I think it’s easy to forget that.

      Sometimes I think when reading about other’s lives we form opinions while forgetting that there is more to the story. Forgetting that while I do hate my mother I also love her.

      I love that you said “you can climb a mountain with enough baby steps.” I’ll keep climbing, Lily. You too, OK? ❤️

      Liked by 1 person

    • I didn’t even think about that. I walked in okay, had a difficult session, and didn’t fall apart but rationalized that those feelings are okay and belong in session and to another time .. it’s less than 24 hours later and I feel quite pulled together. Thanks for pointing this out to me DV


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