I feel like what I’ve been doing to just stay afloat these last few weeks is so repetitive that it could be scripted on the back of a shampoo bottle.
In some ways, the cycle of each day is mind numbing enough and uneventful enough that it’s kind of like being on a hamster wheel. A coworker and I were joking about this last week, and I said that we needed to find out what the hamster’s secret was to staying so happy with running around on a wheel. And yet, inside it still feels like unpredictable chaos, a reality that is made all the more maddening when chaos is countered with utter monotony.
Sure, I’m just driving home from work or running errands, totally normal things from the outside, but what can’t be seen are the moments where I am pulled back and the only thing that’s left in my body is the desire to find a way to make it all end. I’m still driving, navigating the windy roads around town, but it’s a drastically different scenario. And then I’m back, and I’m scared and tired of having those gut wrenching yearnings within me. And then it happens again, just a few minutes later. Something has to give. I know it can’t be me, even though I wish it could.
I do feel some comfort today knowing that my therapist will be back in town later today and that I will see her in two days. Even though I feel pathetic for being so dependent on someone, I also know that I did make it through the last two weeks, so that has to count for something. Except maybe that doesn’t mean I’m actually dependent, but that I miss someone I’m close too. But I know she doesn’t miss me – she’s probably dreading coming back – and that’s where that unavoidable gap comes into play. The gigantic crevice where the unbearable truth lies that says that my therapist isn’t doing anything other than providing a service for which I pay her and that no matter how much I wish she could, she cannot take away the past. It’s the dark place that holds all of the things that I didn’t receive as a child that I desperately wish I could have now – but I can’t.
So it’s hard to find solace in my T’s presence, because, in a sense, it’s not real.
I need to hop back onto my wheel now. I just wish it didn’t hurt so badly to keep going.