So I’m coming down with a cold, or at least that’s probably what the killer sore throat implies. And I had to get up earlier than I wanted to, and I was grumpy, and I was emotional and it was not a good morning, even if I did get a couple of hours of work done.
But it probably wasn’t the best basis for my first appointment with a counsellor. Counselling is not something I’ve done before. I’ve probably scoffed at it in the past, to be honest. I wasn’t looking forward to it. I was sort of actively dreading it. So much so that I asked eldest to drive me there and back, because driving when I’m in a state is not good thing. My contact lenses do not have windscreen wipers, and vision is important when you’re driving. Plus, all that lovely logical logistical stuff aside, I basically just wanted the company and support, and knowing he’d be there with hugs when I came out afterwards made it a little bit easier to take that step into the unknown.
So I went. And it was ok. More than ok. And I have more appointments booked now. I like her, which means I can talk to her. She asked lots of questions to find out about me and my life and then also, obviously, about why I was there. And I answered them, and when it came to it, I could and did cry without feeling any judgement. As she put it, having heard the bones of the story, it’s just f*cking sh*t. And it is. It really is. There is nothing about any of what has happened or how it happened, that isn’t sh*t. And it’s been no time at all, and it is ok to still be an emotional wreck. The way I’m feeling is normal. She may not have said all that, but that’s how she made me feel.
Around here I sometimes feel, and yes it may just be in my head, that people think I should have got past the crying all over the place stage, and/or that me crying makes them feel awkward and embarrassed. But I’m sorry, it’s only been 11 weeks, and it’s not like it’s the kind of thing that has a time limit on it anyway! I cry on and off all day, from silently to screaming out loud. I miss him all the time. There are so many hurdles to get over every day; so many reminders, memories that pop up from nowhere, or are triggered by who knows what, and ambush me. I just feel so lost. And lonely. And isolated. And scared.
I don’t know what I expect from counselling. I’ve been very emotional since seeing her, but I think that’s probably good, because it means I’m not holding it in just to please anyone else. I really wish I didn’t feel this bad all the time. But I do. It just is how it is. Sometimes I’m walking, and crying, and it all gets too much, and I still have to stop and bend over and wrap my arms around the pain and catch my breath and get myself together before I can carry on walking. But sh*t like this doesn’t go away in a matter of weeks. I may not like it, but this process is going to take months, more likely years. And it is never going to have not happened. I will be carrying it, and him, with me forever.
Counselling can’t fix me. It can’t bring him back. But hopefully it can help me deal with some of the things I’m feeling and thinking, be a sounding board for some of my darker thoughts, and be another professional eye watching over me. I guess I’ll find out as the weeks go on. But I am going to go back. See what you’ve done to me? I carry crystals. I’ve tried reiki. I’m seeing a counsellor, though I’m not sure that was ever your thing. Maybe it should have been. Maybe you could have fought some of your demons that way. More likely you’d just have tried homeopathy though…😉
Still, right now, I will try pretty much anything that might help. Because the flow of emotions and the aching pain are relentless, and tiring and draining…and all so useless. Unavoidable but useless. Because you’re not coming back to me, which I still can’t wrap my head around. How the f*ck is all of this even a thing? I love and miss you so much hon. That’s not changing either. 😭💔