I’m in tears here. And, it’s okay. I’m allowed to cry.
I’m rewriting all the letters I wrote to myself out in a separate journal. I have them all over, dotted through my journals (and considering that I use on average a new journal every 2 months, sometimes less, sometimes more), and in various places online. I want them all together.
I just wrote out this letter http://elizareasonstolive.com/wp/letter-to-myself-27th-january/. I didn’t know what it would be about. It was a letter in which I wrote what I was thinking about AH, the therapist I was skyping. In which I was telling myself to give it a chance, and to tell him just how scared I was about him leaving, about the fact that he’ll end up leaving. I sent him the link to it. I knew how important it was to share it with him. He left me a voice message. Telling me that he would try not to let me push him away. That he wouldn’t leave. That I’m right that I’m strong enough to handle it if he does, but that I wouldn’t need to handle it, because he plans on sticking by me. I listened to that message over and over again. It was still something we discussed (the fact that I’d push him away, although it was never conscious, and the fact that I didn’t want to etc, and how important the relationship was), we kinda discussed it to the earth’s ends.
He lied. He told me he wouldn’t leave. He did. He told me so many times that he wouldn’t, not just in that message, although that message was the most important to me. He lied. He left. Just like every other person. He left knowing just how important it was to me. He left knowing that he was the only safety net there was in my life. He left knowing – for I’d told him before – that if we ever ended it, I wouldn’t try again. He left. I’m not even blaming him. I don’t blame him. I understand him. Why would he want to stick around? Yet, he left. I don’t care what I did or didn’t do. I don’t care how much I confused him. I don’t care because, considering that’s what we were trying to deal with, if I was pushing him away, which I’ve no choice but to believe I was, he should’ve shown me I was doing it. And if he honestly thought I wanted to end it, well then I guess it’s a good thing he left. Because I’d told him a week prior and shown him, and he’d acknowledged, just how much we’d built a working relationship. Could he honestly have thought I wanted to end it? I don’t know. He ended it. Not me. I know he’ll say differently, but it wasn’t different.
He told me I had to choose whether to continue, when what I had said to him was no different to anything else I’d said to him constantly, I’d often said the same things, why was it different now? I replied and told him what I needed. Although what I needed was surface. What I was saying was that I didn’t feel safe. He should have understood why. I shouldn’t have to have figured it out weeks later. He should have understood just how vulnerable I’d made myself in the previous weeks, obviously this wasn’t going to feel safe. He said we shouldn’t speak that week. He took a break for a week (ignoring what he’d told me he’d do) and then emailed asking if I wanted to continue. I replied yes. He told me he thought we should keep it to email. A few days later he emailed asking how I was. I happened not to be online for the next week. I came back on to find another email from him saying he was assuming I was ending it. Hello? I never said I wanted to end it. I didn’t plan on ending it. I told him so. But now it’s anyways a couple of months later. And it’s way too late. He ended it. Honestly, he’s shown me that he can’t handle me, that I’m ‘too much’ for him. Honestly, there’s enough he did/didn’t do that wasn’t great. Like not remembering what I’d written. Like not reading every word I wrote and making faux pas because of that. Like not telling me when he didn’t understand something (despite my repeated requests to tell me when he didn’t understand). Like not acknowledging when I was hurt. Like not responding to the important stuff, or explaining to me exactly where the boundaries were meant to lie. That doesn’t take away all he did give me. He put up with me. I would’ve thought he was able to handle me, for, he did. He stuck by me. He called me when I wouldn’t call him. He was in touch when I wasn’t. He didn’t let me push him away. Which makes it all the more strange that he found me ‘too much’ now, when I actually wasn’t pushing him away, but was trying to tell him what I needed, when I was trying to take charge of my part. He actually built a kinda working relationship with me, which for me, is something I never would’ve thought possible. That was enough to way against all he wasn’t doing. Yet, he left. I didn’t know that the letter I was copying out was going to be that, else I’d have probably left those pages blank and if I wanted to write out the next one done that, or left it until I could handle it.
I haven’t processed what happened with AH. I guess to an extent I have, through all the journaling I’ve done. Through S and M listening to all I’ve said. Yet, I haven’t. I haven’t made sense of it. I don’t know how to process it. I don’t know how to be ‘okay’ with it. I don’t know where I could’ve done anything differently. I don’t know how I could’ve reacted differently when he opened the door. I don’t know IF I could’ve done anything differently. To me, it’s obvious that this was all my fault. That really I pushed him away and that if not for me he wouldn’t have left. I guess there is 2 sides. His side too. His side that I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.
I know that, he left. After all the times he told me wouldn’t. He left And here I am sitting in tears. I guess as I said last night, I’m grateful that I can cry http://elizareasonstolive.com/wp/one-hundred-and-six-the-ability-to-cry/. Although all I know at the moment in that he left, he walked out a door I never knew existed.