Sadness hangs from me like overripe fruit from a tree. Why must we lose people. Thus leads to the question: what’s the point of it all anyway; if we lose everyone in the end, including ourselves, then what could possibly be the point.
Sadness. It overwhelms. I feel as though I’ve met my quota of loss for one life. I cannot possibly handle any more. And yet, according to statistics, I have over half (or possibly even two thirds) of my life ahead of me. Future loss of close individuals is inevitable. And yet, it feels overwhelmingly intolerable. I cannot lose another soul who I care about. Does this make me weak? Overly sensitive? Human?
Perhaps my heart is too fragile. More fragile than most?
Sadness. Runs down my sides like water from a beautiful fountain. And yet I’m not beautiful am I. And neither is my sadness. Cruel, perhaps. But not beautiful. And me? Just another casualty of an over-hardened world.
Please accept my apologies: I’m feeling a bit overly sensitive tonight. And, as if it weren’t glaringly obvious, weighed down with sadness.
I’m trying to cling with all my might to okay, even though I know I’m far from okay. I’m nowhere near okay.
Why does my therapist keep saying that things are “shifting”? I don’t think anything is shifting. I’m not learning anything about myself. I’m not feeling any forward movement. The only thing I feel is as though I were stuck in mental purgatory with no escape. Is that “progress”? Is that “things shifting”? And if things were shifting, wouldn’t it shift into something else besides this pure and utter hell I’ve been living in for these last couple weeks? How does she see what I’m going through as progress. I really don’t get it. I just don’t. I’ve felt these things before, it’s not like it’s anything new. Sadly, I thought my days of feeling this awful were over. I was sadly wrong. Perhaps her thinking these are “good signs” is just a way for herself to feel better, to not feel like she’s totally helpless or that our therapy is not benefitting me in the slightest but could in fact be making me worse.
How the hell is therapy helping? It’s gotten to the point where I spend most of the session with her dissociated and unable to speak. How is that progress??????