I thought I wrote her but it's gone. Sorry if it was too bad, I didn't know
I wrote to my therapist but couldn't send it so posting here because part of me wants it read and another doesn't.
Today was meant to be a day to talk. no commitments. The day to talk about ‘Sarah’ or whatever hard stuff. Such a fuck up! Really, what is the point. One time you say ‘it’s ok to sit in silence’ the you say it isn’t helpful to say nothing. Duh! But see it’s the crack of frustration. I know because I feel it too, except 1000000 x. That happens. Frustration, empathy, frustration, empathy, frustration, then I’m fired. Not again. I know the common denominator. Even my plants don’t want to be around. They sense the badness and shrivel up. ‘I’m out of here!’. Don’t blame em. Imagine being so bad your household plants are suicidal. Then I’m meant to come and spill badness there when I don’t want you to go. I don’t want you to shrivel. But you’ll go anyway because I don’t speak. Because badness oozes through the quiet. But who even knows what that badness is. Maybe you won’t shrivel but I will. I’m already drying up. That’s not a good starting point. It’s irrelevant anyway because even when it’s the day to talk my body won’t allow it. It’s wasting time. It’s wasting your time, your frustration. That has a ripple.
Someone else misses out. Someone who would speak. Someone not so bad and dumb and ugly. Someone who isn’t me. But you won’t see this because that would make me shrivel. Desperate and needy. I can’t need.
It sounds like these are really powerful and strong words that you wanted to share with your therapist, but also a reflection of how you are feeling about yourself.
