Rupture and repair

I guess you’d call that our first rupture, K and I. Not bad for three years of work.

It started monday when I asked for an extra session. When schools were planning to return she let me know she’d be more available if I needed it. So I asked. But it wasn’t the right time to ask. She hadn’t yet got enough headspace from the chaos that was homeschooling I guess. She threw the request back at me clumsily, saying that I need to remember I can get through things alone.

It was clumsy because it wasn’t coming from a place of crisis, my request. Quite the opposite. Huge life changes are taking place internally and I just felt like I’d appreciate more room to stretch my legs a bit in this new acceptance I’ve gathered. Her response was driven by her anxiety, that she wasn’t able to support me how I needed, but she threw in those words too. She told me she’s “stretched too thin”. Big trigger words.

K said today she walked away from that conversation feeling uncomfortable. She felt it coming I guess. Well, I did too. I left that conversation, turned my phone off and ended up switching into another part for three days. A part that severs all my attachments so emotionally I feel nothing towards anyone.

From K’s perspective I just didn’t message her for three days. She said today she knew it wasn’t me around when she messaged a logistic timing question for Friday’s session and the response back was absolutely not my style of writing. I explained how in those days I was away I would try to push through and reach her but I was stopped/blocked. I explained how I didn’t want her to be annoyed at the part that swooped in and took charge whilst I was away, to which she said “why would I be annoyed at her protecting you?”

“I’m so happy you’re back though” she said today. It was a painful return. A look back at the trigger stacking that caused me to completely disappear. Another look at the acceptance I’m trying to hold onto at the moment that my life is never going to look how I thought it would, because the place I’ve come from is too disturbed.

I walked to the therapy room today for the first time in MONTHS. Passing her new front door to her house that she told me about when it was done, but I never saw because of doing walk and talk sessions. Such grand doors, it just made me hurt, again, for the life I’ll never have. Flowers in pots out the front reminding me of how normal her life is. Such a sharp contrast to my house that is no longer mine and is, in comparison, extremely unloved and cold. The his hers and daughters wellies all lined up too making me wince at the unfairness of it. All of that taken in during the 2 second walk past her house into the therapy room. That’s why I left. That’s why the attachment with her was severed. She’s just a reminder, sometimes, of all my hopes dashed.

It’s everywhere at the moment. Unfortunately. Reminders. New babies. Family talks. For example I’m seeing my mother on mother’s Day. Many would love to be in this position with their mum. But for me it’s trauma. She’s not coming because it’s mother’s Day. She’s coming because she now has the right to walk around my house assessing how I live, because it’s now her house. I’m not even allowed my bedroom to be private, I asked. I have to open myself up to be entirely scrutinised by her, I am not allowed to enforce any physical boundaries against her and it’s messing with my head. It’s too similar to life when I lived with her. I’m powerless again to her demands. I’m completely exposed to her judgements.

That’s just the tip of the mother iceberg. K is finding my mothers behaviour recently appalling. Far from K’s assertion today that ruptures will happen, she will fuck up at times, she’s human. My mother is just one big fuck up and it just means K’s mistakes seem bigger than they really are because all the other “mistakes” people (abusers) have made against me somehow get rolled into the picture. Things get muddled. But it’s sorted.

Rupture over, and I’m back.

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