I feel like a robot–slowly getting things done, but not really participating in life. An underlying sense of panic follows me everywhere. It feels like I need to fix everything. I need to do something to make things better. But maybe I’m wrong. I don’t know. Maybe I am simply trying to fix something that isn’t broken. All I know is that I have hurled myself into survival mode because it’s the only thing I know how to do at the moment.
I’ve been trying to write about everything that’s been happening, but it isn’t working out so well. I start, and then stop, and then move on to something else. It feels dangerous to sit in one place for too long or think too much. I fear that all of the thoughts and emotions I am having will consume me if I allow myself even a minute to pay attention to them.
I have buried myself in work, refusing to stop because stopping feels like defeat. I want nothing more than to run away to a quiet place but I force myself to stick with a routine because the familiarity helps to keep me from breaking apart. I am not sure that I can survive more defeat.
M has been gone since Friday. I ended up having an extra week with him because of logistics around going to dad’s house (i.e. dad is an incompetent ass who cannot find his way out of a wet paper bag). But, now he is gone. It will be one week tomorrow and I haven’t seen or heard from him at all. It’s almost as though he has completely stopped existing.
The quietness that has engulfed the house is almost too much to bear. I still have C but without M, I am acutely aware that something is missing. I don’t miss the yelling, swearing and angry outbursts but I do miss him. It’s noticeable in every inch of the house–the place on his bed where his teddy used to lie, his empty chair at the dinner table and the empty hook where his book bag and jacket used to hang.
I know this might not be a forever thing, but it is not the way I ever imagined things ending up. I never imagined him not living with me.
Even with M gone, I am still working on getting him the help he needs. I found him a nice lady named Sabrina who does play therapy. I don’t know much about play therapy honestly, but from what I have been able to research, it can be good for anger/behavioural issues. I met with her on Tuesday to discuss whether she thought she could help him and what I hoped to get out of it. I wanted to be quite upfront with her so I did explain that I was hoping that if M needed more help, she would be a good resource to assist me with my family doctor. She agreed and said she would either speak with him or write a letter after she had seen M for a little while.
So, we arranged for M to meet her next Monday, but my ex still hasn’t gotten back to me yet. He seems to be of the opinion that everything is completely fine. In my experience though, anger doesn’t just simply disappear–it might go into hiding–but it eventually comes out again. He doesn’t want to acknowledge any of it and says we should ‘play it by ear‘ for the time being. Isn’t it better to know if we did something wrong and have the opportunity to try to fix it before it’s too late, though? Isn’t it better to give M the tools he needs now, so that years down the line he isn’t left trying to figure it all out?
I keep telling myself that I don’t need my ex’s permission to take M to see Sabrina, but I think things will work better if we can do it together and be open about it.
My mother is still full of her harsh, childish and pointless comments and does nothing to help with the situation whatsoever. It feels like she does everything she can to make me feel like the worst fucking human alive.
Things just feel so hard right now.
I have T, thankfully, but it feels like we’ve been having hiccups lately. There have been a few weeks where we’ve only had one session and while it doesn’t tend to send me into panic like before, they aren’t entirely comfortable experiences either. I still have major meltdowns when he doesn’t answer a text or email sometimes but at least now I tell him when it happens. 2019 has been pretty overwhelming so far and I don’t see it getting better, at least not in the short term.
Lately, I’ve also gotten the feeling that sometimes T thinks he’s not helping me. It feels like it weighs on his mind sometimes. I told him that I just need time, lots and lots of it, to figure this all out. I told him that when we have hiccups or canyons or whatever else happens, I just need to know that it’s okay and that he will still be there. He says we will get through this. Eventually. I keep telling myself he’s right. It’s just another bump in the road. I’ve survived so many already so what’s one more really.
I think I’d just like to know that for once in my life I could be sure of what tomorrow may bring. T says nothing has, or ever will, change. He says he’ll be there.
No matter what.