Big loss

I remember when I was young, when I would write, I would be glad when a tear fell on the ink and smeared it because that way I knew whoever read it, would know how much pain I was in when I wrote it.

I still have quite a few old letters and poems with tear stains on them.

Times have changed, though, and nobody can see these tears and the keyboard doesn't stain if you cry on it - just stops working.

The past few days have been so hard. I did have a good - if nerve-wracking - time Sunday when my son came over for my youngest son's birthday, and we had guests. I was really nervous, but it went well.

The hardest part has been that I had a falling-out with my therapist. But instead of just ceasing to see her, I thought about it - thought about what she'd said to me that shut me down immediately and truly hurt my trust - and I wondered if it was me....was I just overreacting? Maybe I was sabotaging my relationship with her, the way I have with just about anyone I've ever had a relationship with.

So I owned this and, in an effort to rectify the situation, I sent her an email. It would have had tear stains on it, if it were written.

I told her about why the things she'd said had hurt me so badly and scared me so much. Those closest to me read the email and also knew how distraught I was over the session.

I think a couple of them even contacted her, when she did not respond to my email.

Two days later, I got a very brief, distant, removed and formal kind of "If you'd like to make an appointment, just give me a call," response.

I bawled.

I just kept thinking, "She called me 'honey'".... And "She held my bleeding wrist..." and "she wiped away smeared make up from my face out of kindness..."

How could she be so cold?

I don't understand, now. I got frantic. Now I am sadder than I have been in a very, very long time.

Prior to this happening, I had said some horrible things to two of the most important people in my life. I hurt them deeply. There's no excuse, truly, but I was just completely out of my mind. Too much at once going on and I snapped. I felt like a monster. I felt horrible. I wanted to die. In fact, I wanted to die worse than I remember ever wanting to die.

Then this happened...with my therapist.

Now I don't know what to do. I don't know what I would even say to her. Could I trust her again? I keep thinking it's my fault because I'm too much. I've always been too much. I'm too much. It's my fault.

I learned so much with her. She helped me see so much. I considered her a friend. Maybe that's what was wrong. But I needed that. I needed to feel that kind of connection, but within certain parameters, obviously.

She probably doesn't even think about me. Probably doesn't even know that I think about her incessantly, wishing to God she knew and understood...wishing I believed she knew and understood. But now it just seems like I said or did something wrong and now... now she's gone.

Gotta wipe some tears before the spacebar quits working.