This is, honestly, the slowest week in existence. Seriously, the earth has to be turning slower.
Every minute creeps by. I have no motivation to work, but somehow I am and I’m doing my job just fine. I’m still having trouble with suicidal thoughts and feelings, and urges to self-injure, but now it’s coupled with guilt over thinking that me and my crises are wearing T down and that she’s going to resent me and my presence in her life. I’m afraid to explain how hard the week has been when I see her in a week.
In some ways I’ve tried to get myself out of this rut, but in other ways I definitely haven’t. I’ve been taking some walks outside with my dog, and I’ve arranged to go out to dinner with a friend once or twice. In the session before T left, she said she thought I could use some extra support and suggested looking into a group, so I contacted the local agency today and was given the number for the group therapist to go through the screening process for the group that will begin in the fall. I’m still going to work, even though every morning it just doesn’t feel worth it.
The bad. I’m still struggling with drinking at night. And if it’s not drinking, I try to find other ways to push away the thoughts and feelings that come up when I’m not busy. I still can’t sit with my feelings, at least when I’m by myself. Even though I am not completely, entirely, utterly isolated, isolation is something that I desperately want, and more often than not, that desire wins out.
I don’t like that I know I’d feel at least a little bit of comfort if T were here. Feeling this dependent on her makes me feel weak.
Now I’m dissociating. Sigh. This is such a vicious, tiring cycle.