It started today with urges to self-harm. I didn’t do it. Sometimes I get the urges but they are under the surface, so although I’m aware that there’s an urge, I don’t act on it, I don’t need to. I just ignore it and get on with my day. The urge rose up a couple of times throughout the day that I can remember.
At other points of the day, I was aware of some young parts stirring. Very young, child voices and the fears they hold. I don’t remember what they were saying, I only remember thinking to myself “ ah, here we go, they are all waking up now. Sienna is back and now they’re all coming back out.”
They’ve been in the distance though, they haven’t taken over.
Until tonight. I was binge watching a tv drama and suddenly I became agitated, and instead of being in the distance, one part stepped forward, took over me. I began rubbing my forehead over and over, and pulling at my hair. Agitated and eyes filling with tears. That feeling of going mad. Too much vulnerability. I began crying.
I don’t even remember the thoughts now…. But there was this emptiness in my stomach, loneliness and fear of the next therapy break coming soon.
Oh, I do remember something… I remember feeling panic that this week I only have one session. Recently on the weeks when I only go once, I’ve been feeling a lot of panic. And when I was in that agitated state earlier tonight while watching tv I had the thought “ too much space, too much space, there’s too much space.”
Suddenly only having one session leaves me with too much space, too much time to be on my own and it feels intolerable.
And then a memory came to me. Something that possibly explains why the breaks are so tough for me. Why space causes me so much panic. My theory is that my childhood experiences- of a mother who came in and out of my life; who promised weekly visits and soon changed it to fortnightly which felt interminable to little me- have left a memory and a mark on me. I have learned that space brings more space, that people don’t keep their promises. That things change and I don’t get a say.
This isn’t a new memory, I always remember how it was, but somehow this is the first time I’ve connected with it in a feeling way. Normally I’d just recant the story rather dispassionately, matter of factly. But tonight I made a connection to it. Maybe that’s why Sienna’s breaks and the space between sessions is so hard?
As a child, I don’t remember ever showing that I was visibly upset about the visitation arrangements. I don’t remember crying when my mum left after them. Yet, tonight I cried as I watched the scene in my head (flashback?) I felt what I must have felt but didn’t show back then.
And I really want to talk to Sienna about this. I will, I think. I see her tomorrow/today anyway.
But who will I be when I turn up there? I feel it all bubbling up, the grief, the vulnerability and the need.
I need to keep my shit together, I can’t be bleeding out young parts this week.