importance

More and more days seem to go by without me so much as picking up a pen or opening my blog to write anything. It’s not that I don’t have anything to say as much as I don’t really know where to begin. Even letters to T have drastically lessened and are pretty much nonexistent at this point.

Speaking of T, today I was supposed to see him but it’s Canada Day which means no T for me. T says I can be in touch whenever I want/need to be but I just don’t know. Like how many times can you go over the same thoughts, feelings and whatever else before saying you’re done with it or he grows exhausted by it all? In some ways I feel unsettled as I often still seem to suffer from the 5 day collapse when there is too much time between sessions. Another part of me just thinks ‘meh‘, as though there’s just no point in any of it anymore.

There’s been some quite awful moods brewing inside lately and the other day as I lay in my hammock gently swaying under the maple trees a thought crossed my mind. Rather than ignoring it or trying to make it go away, I just let it sit there for awhile. I wasn’t scared of it but it didn’t bring me comfort either. You see, I came to the understanding that keeping myself alive is going to be the most difficult thing I do this year. Most days I find that I literally don’t even care anymore. I’m fading. Searching for a darker place to hide. The nagging desire to just give in is always rumbling around in the background and it would be so easy to just let it happen.

Not so long ago, T and I were talking about me killing myself. I told him how I thought the boys would be fine because they still had their father and my mother would have my brother. I told him that my friends would have their families and other friends, so they’d be okay too. I felt everyone would have a good life regardless of whether I was here or not when T spoke up and asked ‘What about me, you never even mentioned me anywhere‘. He then proceeded to tell me that if I were to kill myself it would be devastating for him. I don’t think he was purposely trying to guilt trip me and perhaps he really does feel that way but my first thought was that it felt really unfair of him to say that.

It has always felt that T is important to me, but I am not supposed to be important to him. He has his own life–his family, friends and colleagues–and I am his client. Surely he doesn’t have enough space for all of us. It never once crossed my mind that I would have the ability to devastate him. Not that I would want to. I guess it just doesn’t make sense to me at all how he feels. How does one get to the point in life where it feels like your therapist would be more upset by you dying than your own family? How incredibly messed up does that sound?

Perhaps that’s where the sense of unfairness comes from. It’s not the comment, it’s the reaction and who it’s from. Or rather, who the reaction is not from. Maybe it’s about who you want to be important. Maybe it’s trying to come to terms with the knowledge that no matter how hard you try you’ll just never be enough for some people in your life and learning that you are where you least expect to be.