The longer I travel down this ‘therapy’ path and divulge more, the harder it is knowing that I am so disappointing and will only disappoint further.

I ‘know’ you don’t believe me. Why is that so important that you don’t believe me? It’s very conflicting – wanting you to know and believe me but thinking there is no way you could understand or want to, and then not wanting you to believe me.  I probably wouldn’t believe you anyway. Either way, I’m angry at myself.

Trying to think of when I wasnt aware/conscious of my body and how awkward I felt and worried about what people could see, not wanting to have a body.

Do I have a personality disorder?

I have just been to the vet, E has a malignant tumor. She will be 15 on monday so not sure whether to operate or not. Of course no-one can see into the future as to what will happen if I do or don’t operate, how long she has anyway. The decision and consequences are completely up to me.

She helps me stay.

Had a raging headache all night and didn’t want to take anything because i felt so nauseous I didn’t think I could keep it down. When I got up this morning I realised I had been clenching my jaw all night- not sure what started first.

I’m not sure why I had this realisation, perhaps after Wednesday’s discussion; there were several older women in my early adult life that I gravitated to, connected with, and developed a friendship with, perhaps even fitting the cliché of more of a mother/daughter relationship, not that that was my conscious intent. All of them were kind and accepted me, regardless of my issues. Actually, all of them came into my life because of my issues.

The first person was the social worker from my place of work when I was 17. She supported me when i went to the detox and had me at her house several times. They appeared to be a very loving family. Christian but never asked or pushed me into that. Even her husband was very kind and gentle; of course, I wanted him to like me but was very wary of him and expected him to have another side, which he never did show.

Then about age 20 I met L, she also was kind and so giving of her time. Let me just be there, at her house, willing to listen to me – not that I ever said anything of substance.

I met T in a psych hospital, we were more like friends even though she was 20 years older than me. We had a lot in common and shared some horrible times but also some great times. Her family also welcomed me into their life.

I don’t recall consciously or otherwise seeking that out when I was younger. I wanted to find out that I was adopted, or have other parents, or live elsewhere, but there weren’t any particular people who I focused on. I dont think I thought there was anyone that could provide that. When my mother threatened to send me to boarding school, as she regularly did, I kept quiet about it hoping that it would eventually happen. I didn’t want to show that that’s what I wanted so I just didnt react when she threatened. Maybe I knew they were empty threats and she would never carry it out. I did often think about it and how much freedom I would have, how I fit in and make friends and be liked by teachers, and I even thought that somehow I would become a good student; it could be a new start and I could be a different me. But no, I was stuck, getting on with what had to be done, wondering how i could be different.

I think, maybe I need to develop compassion for myself, then I look at or think about myself and remember how fat, ugly and disgusting I am. I guess that means I’m not there yet! 

What happened to the strong functioning person I used to be? The resilient solo person that was able to make decisions and take on the world and whatever was thrown up. It seems I have reverted to the hopeless nobody I was as a child.

When did I become so physically clumsy?

I fell down the stairs last night with E in my arms, she’s ok, I landed on my less dodgy knee and hand. Got quite a shock and started to have a panic attack because I wasn’t expecting the pain. I was able to turn the pain off but then remained in a hyper state for hours. Lying in bed wide awake knowing the pain was there but separate from it, but that humming in my brain was there. Very familiar. Waiting.

And where to from here?

Again, the noisy anxiety is getting louder and the reassuring sense of capability, strength, hope and openness is slipping. I’m trying to resist the ‘knowledgable’ talk of how embarrassing, guilty, hopeless, weak and needy I was/am. Resisting the urge to dive into that black sea.

The only things I write about are negative.

I wish sometimes that I could download all  my thoughts and images to a third-party so I could  more easily explain and show them. I don’t want to be the only vessel that carries them, but I don’t want to pass them on to someone else either.

What does fear taste like? 

It’s acidic, its hot, it’s ice-cold.

It’s nauseating, it’s choking.

It tastes like him.

I felt so much less anxious after today’s session. It felt like something shifted in the relationship – I felt that there was some understanding even if I’m not particularly effective at communicating, and that maybe I don’t have to do this alone. Nothing had probably changed except my perception. 

I hope that doesn’t seep away or be overtaken by my hopelessness by next week. 

I do want different.