Rubber Bands and Chewing Gum

Omfg. Just OMFG! What a bloody few weeks it’s been. Honestly…just once more for festive cheer: OH MY FUCKING GOD! Does the run into Christmas ever get any easier do you think? I’ve been struggling with the ‘season to be jolly’ since I was 14 – or, at least, that’s the first time I really remember feeling like I couldn’t cope and fell face first into the doom vortex on the 26^th December before finally getting spat out and back into some semblance of reasonable coping early in the new year.

These days the festive doom and gloom seems to hit hard in mid-November and continue on right through to January…because I like to take my time over these things and really get the full experience of shit for as long as possible (!). To be honest, the moment the Christmas chocs hit the shelves in … October (?)… I start my steady decent into *waves arms around* this fucking mess. It’s gloriously tragic.

Unsurprisingly, this year is/has been terrible – but then it was always going to be, wasn’t it? I probably sound hyper and manic but I am really just trying not to collapse. I’ve been riding the emotional rollercoaster lately and it’s been pretty bad at times like I said last time I came here for a moan.

Tbh It’s hard to know where to begin today. I know I’ve been AWOL here again – for a few reasons that seem completely bonkers but then make sense when remembering my system is a fragmented mess of parts:

1) I have had so much to say but just couldn’t find the words or the time (there’s been a tonne of dissociation which hasn’t helped matters)

2) I have been in survival and have spent a lot of time hiding in my bed just to be able to function on a minimal level and every time I have thought about writing I have shrunk away from it

3) Child parts have been pretty activated at times and they just need cats (and Anita…)

4) I’ve been away on holiday this last week (hooray for sunshine, boo for still having to parent!) and have tried to recharge and find some reserves so been reading a lot of books in order to try and escape my brain and all the attachment shit that’s been thrown up lately

5) My laptop decided to get in a big hot huff and then give up the ghost – bloody marvellous!

I mean that list isn’t exhaustive by any means, but you get the picture.

Also, I haven’t really been able to formulate what I want to say about therapy with Elle. That has obviously been ongoing and last time I was here I mentioned that I had been triggered – honestly, it’s been a fucking hellscape navigating this new relationship after what’s happened with Anita and what’s galling is it’s not Elle’s fault or even mine, and yet here we are dodging fucking landmines that keep activating every other fucking minute.

Therapy has always been sensitive work where I am concerned #trauma but I feel like we are now having to work like the bloody bomb squad. It’s gently gently…and even still sometimes we manage to cut the wrong colour wire and BOOM!

I don’t know how to approach writing about the last six weeks or so because I feel like Elle and I have had some ups and downs but the result is that I think we are getting a better sense of each other which is really good. I really like Elle – and I think she is going to be really good for me. But now we are on a three-week break and ARGH fuck me – all the stuff is coming up. Doesn’t take long to feel like it’s all going to shit, and abandonment is imminent, does it?

Perhaps I’ll come back to all that separately because I feel like there are moments that I want to give proper time and thought to…maybe in between Christmas and New Year when I will- without doubt- be struggling (worse than I am now!).

Last time I was here I was talking about the email I had sent Anita reminding her of the agreement to end and holding her to account having ghosted me for a month – and her fucking ridiculous reply, “I am unsure what it is that you are looking for from me” … jesus.

Anyway, I have really struggled these last few weeks. It was inevitable. Christmas over the last few years has been tough (in the way it is always tough) but I have been held through it by Anita’s love and care. She has made the breaks as short as possible, checked in with me (even sending me messages – iniated by her – on Christmas day itself), bought me some really pertinent/heartfelt gifts, washed my elephant … you know, all the stuff that has meant that the young parts have felt loved and cared for even in her absence.

This year that is gone.

And my god it’s painful.

This last few months has been so hard but until now there haven’t been any ‘occasions’ where there has been something to ‘miss’ or be very different outside the sessions being over but Christmas is the first of those massive ouch moments and being faced with just how ‘gone’ Anita is. I’ve been battling with wondering what to do about getting my books/stuff back from A but resolved that was best tackled in the new year because frankly, getting my stories back is going to HARD and the child parts of me don’t need to feel any more rejected than they already do.

I hadn’t replied to Anita’s email either – I’ve been turning it over in my mind a lot (because that’s what I do) and I just hadn’t known how to reply. There’s been a massive part of me that wanted to send her a card this Christmas – which is a massive distance from the gifts we’ve exchanged over the years – but in the end I decided against it. Part of me wanted to reach out and ‘care’ but there was another part that just feels like I am wasting my fucking time and emotional energy on someone who absolutely doesn’t give a shit.

I’ve had a lot of time to think this week being away from life – and as much as I wish I could leave my troubles back in the UK I haven’t been able to. I have been thinking about Anita, I’ve been thinking about the new relationship with Elle. I have been thinking about what I need and how to move things forward.

Anyway, long story short, after weeks of upset and nightmares and generally just not doing great I sent Anita a text last night:

Tbh I didn’t expect her to reply…but when I woke up this morning I see that she’d replied late – 11pm (clearly her work phone boundaries are as appalling as ever) but what came was honestly just a fucking kicker:

I mean I shouldn’t be surprised – she’s been beyond fucking crap this whole time – but seriously?! All the months of how hard it is for her alongside her total failure to show any kind of care about my experience has been rough… would it have killed her to say, ‘Happy Christmas RB’ –

Anyway, I’m sure none of you are shocked by this. I wasn’t. I don’t really know what I feel tbh. Disappointed? Resigned? Numb? I am sure if I felt deep into myself there’d be a lot of feelings, but I am not going to go anywhere near that right now because frankly what’s swirling in that vortex of doom is painful and if I can not get swept up into it then all the better.

I know for so many of us, this time of year is fucking challenging. I mean it’s a bloody melting pot for emotional chaos isn’t? Even without therapy breaks thrown in for seasoning! There’s all sorts of crap about families and expectations and grief and *all the things*…it’s no wonder we struggle because it is fucking hard. So FUCKING HARD!!!

I hate that every year I wish the festive period away. I so desperately need the time off work, but I find this time anything but relaxing. I have a lovely family – my wife and kids are fab…and I try very hard to be present and enjoy making memories with them. We have started new family traditions. We have begun to do Christmas on our own terms…and all that is really great. But there is also that shadow that lingers and the stuff with Anita has totally exacerbated the core issue…this year I have yet another mother figure who has abandoned and rejected me and I REALLY DID NOT NEED THAT.

My own mum is totally absent and ghosting me, too. I don’t know why. Most of the year I can cope with the absence of a caring mother – but that ‘lack’ is all thrown into sharp focus at this time of year. So many of my friends are spending the holidays with their parents. Their parents are massively involved with the grandchildren… and I know I shouldn’t compare but it’s hard not to. When your working narrative is that you aren’t good enough, loved, wanted, etc…you’re perpetually scanning for evidence to either confirm or deny it. Sadly, all I seem to get is confirmation.

I know my journey now is to be my own parent and to stop looking outside of myself for someone to fill the hole inside me. I need to look after myself and all my parts – because I know what they need and how they need to be loved. It’s hard, though, because those parts still really need the ‘other’ sometimes – not all the time, by any means…but Christmas has always been a holiday for kids…and my littles are…out in the cold…again. I honestly wish Anita and I had never undertaken the work we did. Reparenting is such delicate and long-term work, and you cannot just fuck it up and run away. I’ve seen it happen so many times now and seen the devastation it’s left behind.

Complex trauma and attachment injuries are not easy to heal – but therapy didn’t ought to make it all much worse. I totally get that ‘in the therapy’ it can be bumpy and that is all part of the work…what I mean is these fucking awful terminations that we seem to go through. It’s mind-blowing. It’s devastating. We deserve so much better.

I doubt I’ll get back here until after Christmas now – so I’ll send you all big hugs and see you on the other side.

Deep breaths. We’ve got this! Ah, fuck it!