#3.11.18

She said it’s okay if I don’t know- I could think about it and tell her next week, or I could write it down and bring it in. She tells me I have a way with words and says keeping a journal is one thing she really wants me to keep doing even after she’s gone.

For my last session I knew I would choke. So I wrote her one least thing.

T asked how I felt about this last session. I hesitated, tried to make sense of my thoughts, string some words together. I couldn’t. So I reached into my bad and pulled out my drawing and hastily scribbled letter.

She asks if I want her to read it out loud or read it quietly or take it with her, or if I want to read it to her.

I ask her to read it quietly. I didn’t want to hear my own words reflected back at me. Afraid? Ashamed? I do not know.

This is what I think I scribbled:

——

I am struggling to find the right words.

I have procrastinated long enough, unwilling to accept that you are leaving and that things are ending and now I have left it to the very last possible minute I am panicking.

There is so much to say, but I don’t have the right words. How do I untangle this mess of thoughts in my head, tie it up with a bow and present it so it makes sense? I don’t know.

It is strange, how things come around in a circle. I remember when we first started- you came in and had to pick up what A had left behind. I was so upset because you were someone new, and I was afraid that you wouldn’t get it. (did you ever notice? I wonder and I feel guilty about it. i was angry at the both of you). But you did. You gave me space to say something (or nothing) as I needed. You didn’t get mad at me (even when I was mad at myself), you didn’t push me to do things that I wasn’t yet able to, and you didn’t run away. You gave me the space and time I needed to take teeny tiny steps and now looking back I realise how far I’ve come and it has been because of you. You have given me so much time and care (I am sorry if I was difficult, I feel really bad about the amount of time I take up. I still worry that I am too much) and I will always be grateful. You have been kind to me when I couldn’t be kind to myself. You believed I could when no one else did. You made me feel that I mattered, too – what a strange concept!

Thank you for showing me that it is okay that I am not like everyone else.

But I am still afraid. I am not where I was but I am not yet where I need to be. When I think of what is going to happen next Friday when it is 3pm and I have nowhere to go it terrifies me. I know all things come to an end and you have to go and so do I but – I wish it didn’t. I am afraid I can’t do this by myself. I get through rough bits knowing that I can call you if I need to but not calling because I don’t have to (also, I don’t call because I want to call and I have to prove a point that I don’t need to). You were right about it not lasting forever but what do I do once I don’t have that anymore? Who is going to be my Wise Mind once mine checks out and I lose it?

It is hard, trying to balance this feeling of wanting you to stay vs knowing you have to go. Trying to figure out how not make a fuss when at the same time I really, really want to. It is hard being here, when my gut reaction is to hide so that I don’t have to face this.

But doing this the second time around reminds me that I have come a long way. It has taken me this long to know that you won’t be angry and I don’t have to be afraid (although sometimes I still am) and it is hard to have to let that go. But I know I will be okay.

I will miss you. I will never forget you. I think my wise mind will always sound like you.

I stubbornly still wish I had more time, but I also understand that things have to change and things come to an end and that this is the Next Big Thing for you. I wish you all the best and hope that you know that to this one person, you have made all the difference. 

Thank you seems inadequate. 

——

T said it made her tear up and that she would always treasure it.

I said I would be okay but some days I am not so sure anymore.