I know I will come in in an hour and say I am fine. You will either say that I'm not, write a prescription and send me away assuring me that I will be OK. One day.
Or you may believe me if I'm convincing. Or maybe today you will finally give up and accept defeat.
We both know that it's a dance we do every week, fortnight or month. I remain immensely grateful that you are kind and that you do fight for me.
I can't find the words though. Not really. Sometimes if you ask the right questions you might get an insight.
I don't know how to make the words come out. That I am totally out of control and can't stop myself and I'm terrified and terribly ashamed.
I don't know how to say that it has been incredibly difficult this morning not to neck all my pills and take myself off somewhere to sleep. That Susanna and I have talked how I am able to step away and make a choice, that I did yesterday and have, so far, done this morning. This is why I am so very ashamed. Sometimes I give in and asking for help seems so stupid because I don't want help as I want it over but I do want help because I desperately want someone to save me. Not keep me safe, just make all this go away. I don't want stopping from hurting myself, ending my life. I want somebody to pick me up and make all this go away so I don't feel I need to die.
But I can't say any of this. Not in ten minutes. Not without feeling I am attention seeking. Not without feeling I am wasting your time. Not without fearing what you will do. Not without fearing what this might mean for me. What diagnosis this means, what potential impact on my children, my husband, my career.
Even writing this fills me with such anxiety I can barely breathe. I cannot say this because it is so ridiculous. I am an educated, professional woman who has made a good life, out of difficulty, but managed for 30 years. Who has 2 lovely children and a wonderful husband but has lost the plot completely and thrown everything away. A woman who knows how psychology works. Who teaches mindfulness, who teaches the concept of self compassion and the good enough mother. Who for 15 years has managed stable, full filling relationships with no difficulties but is now so alone and feeling so rejected.
I just cannot accept this is me. This is my life. I don't want it. I don't understand it and I want it to stop.
But I can't say this. Because I'm scared and ashamed and my voice just won't work. And showing this to you feels just as ridiculous. Even more so. Like you said, a woman like me can be more than this. A woman like me. Yes I should be able to.
But what if they are right. What if I'm not that resilient, sensible, kind, compassionate woman I tricked even myself into believing, and this is me. This is it?
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