There’s a fucking cruel irony here, that today I am writing about lies and betrayal in therapy literally straight after posting up my last blog about not being able to fully appreciate safety in therapy even though I am safe, and the one before that writing about harm in therapy caused by other therapists but being so grateful to my therapist for being safe and consistent and all the good things…but I am beginning to think the universe hates me so why am I even surprised at this point?

What on earth am I talking about?

Have I lost mind?

Well, yes. Yes. I have…

Not again? Ha! Yep. Again.

I am so dysregulated at the moment that I barely know what to do or say but I need to get this out somewhere before I explode. I’ve been so … unwell…since Tuesday after my last session with Elle that I’ve been barely functional. I feel like I have had my legs taken out from beneath me. My stomach hurts. I feel jittery. I’ve had a consistent migraine and tension headache for four days now – and it’s only started to ease today. My back has seized up. Sleep is appalling. Nightmares are rife. I wake up in the middle of the night and just sob for hours.

Like it’s a mess.

What the hell has happened?

Has someone died or something?

Nope. But I am grieving.

I don’t think it’s really very easy to explain just how destabilising it is to have someone you love and trust betray your trust by lying to you…and how much grief that stirs up – especially if you have the sort of relational wounds that I do.

Of course, in this case the ‘someone that I love and trust’ is Elle.

I am devastated.

But I am also locked in an internal battle with myself. I don’t know if I am completely overreacting here or whether what I feel is justified?

Perhaps what’s happened isn’t all that big a deal… or maybe I am just incapable, these days, of noticing when I am standing right slap bang in the middle of a red flag factory until I am fully wrapped in them from head to toe. Do I just not see the colour red anymore? Or is it a washed out pink now, and I am trying to romanticise the flags as pretty blush-coloured bunting?

I feel like this is really cryptic. It’s not meant to be. But my brain is all over the place. My system is in chaos and disarray and I just feel really fucking sad that I hardly know what to say here.

Part of me wanted to write yet another email to Elle today rather than blog. But she’s away and my telling her what’s going on since the last message we exchanged isn’t going to help matters any. I don’t want to disturb her time away. The last break we had was fine (still not written about that) but May was a disaster (finding myself on the online therapist forum)…and frankly, I don’t want to go there EVER again.

Right now, I am not sure if I can even make it to session on Tuesday, though. My system is off its tits and because it’s free to go spiral off in any direction it wants to for the next few days I am struggling to hold tight to the sense that Elle is safe at all, or cares.

I guess I should just cut to the chase, here, but it might take a bit as I can only focus in short bursts and want to escape this emotional agony and so keep getting dragged into ASMR rug cleaning videos, or anything else that will distract from the fact that my heart is broken…over what is essentially a white lie.

The thing is, does it even matter what colour a lie is in therapy? Therapy is (supposed to be) built on trust and honesty – they are the cornerstones of the process – alongside unconditional positive regard…and yet here we are.

I can’t actually believe it.

Right, RB, stop fucking about, just spell it out. Deep breaths…here we go. Brace positions.

A few months ago, Elle set up an ongoing Zoom link for our Friday check in sessions rather than having to send me a new link each week – makes sense. When she did that it meant that all our sessions went into an online calendar that was shared with me. I can see months and months ahead that our time is blocked out. No problems there.

A couple of months ago I got a notification that my session on Friday 10^th October was cancelled and it had a line through it on my calendar. Fine. I figured Elle had something on that day and it was no big deal. We’d always said Fridays might change here and there so it was no sweat.

When I next saw Elle in person, she didn’t mention the cancellation and I assumed that at some point down the line she would tell me about it as it was still a way off.  But I was certain she’d mention it, either just to confirm the skipped week, or perhaps we would reschedule the slot to some other time in the week.

The weeks have been rolling by and nothing has been said by Elle at all. Part of me wondered this last week if maybe the thing had changed again and perhaps the call was happening as there had been no discussion about it – although nothing had changed on the calendar to suggest that. And the Friday round Christmas got crossed out so I knew that Elle was actively doing things her end.

A week ago, on Friday, I was in session face-to-face with Elle. It was during that appalling week where I had lost the plot and basically felt borderline suicidal in my Tuesday session and had had a Thursday check in and then a Friday session too. It was a bad week! She said she was going away that weekend to see a friend and then mentioned seeing another friend this weekend…but no reference was made to the Friday being off or her being away in the week and so it confused me a bit as in that moment Elle must have been thinking about seeing this friend and knew when it was she’d be going. It was also a Friday morning that I was sitting with her in the room so it’s not like she could forget that we meet on Fridays.

She had to be avoiding talking to me about it – but maybe it was because I had had such a rotten week and the idea of telling me about it felt like it might be destabilising? I dunno. Either way, she kept quiet. Still, I just imagined she’d tell me on Tuesday that Friday was off – even if that felt a bit last minute and a bit crap given how hard things have been as it really didn’t give us much of an opportunity to put anything in place… not that I would have needed much. It’s only a check in and really a text message would have done instead.

Anyway, I went to my session on Tuesday and it was ok but something felt a little off. Perhaps I was just waiting to see if Elle was going to tell me about Friday. She didn’t. Nothing was said at all. At that point I wondered what the hell was going on and why she hadn’t said anything. Maybe she knew that our calendars were synced and I already knew?…but then surely, you’d always mention a break in person? Or at least via email or text?

Whenever I leave my session on a Tuesday Elle ALWAYS says, “See you on Friday”… like ALWAYS. Yet as I left on Tuesday she didn’t. So, I knew that Friday was off but she hadn’t told me herself.

Ugh.

Crap.

But I guess I already knew and had been bracing for it.

But why was she avoiding saying anything? I know breaks can be tricky, but our last one was fine and missing a check in isn’t the end of the world…

What I wasn’t expecting, however, was to receive a breezy email later that afternoon from Elle:

Hello lovely girl 💕🥰

I’ve just been invited away for a long weekend this week with a friend I hardly ever see, which means I won’t be able to make our usual call at 9 on Friday. 

Sorry to not give you more notice, or write you something that feels holding, and I hope that feels ok and not too jarring? Rest assured I will return on Monday morning, if not refreshed maybe a little perkier and less coldish.

Tightest of squishes, 

(and absolutely no Halloween gooeyness)

🎃👻🫂💕🍂

Elle xxxxx

To say my stomach fell through the floor is not an understatement. I was just about to go online and teach and as I read that I felt like I was going to be sick.

Because what was this?

She’d had all the time in the world to tell me about the cancelled check in, plenty of notice. She could have told me right that afternoon when I was sitting in the room with her as it was clearly on her mind given she consciously omitted her usual, “See you on Friday”. And there had been plenty of time to write something holding (not that that was at all necessary). We could have rearranged the call months back – like there were so many ways of navigating this. And if the message had have been the truth, yes it would have been a little jarring but nothing like the whiplash I was experiencing in that moment seeing that my therapist of two years who knows me so intimately, knows how important trust and honesty is to me, knows how badly harmed I have been by therapists and their lies, and how very difficult I have been finding things lately…had chosen to lie to me like this.

And not only that, but this was all coming from a therapist who says how important honesty is, and integrity, and trust…like wtaf was going on?

Please make it make sense.

And in the big scheme of things, I really get that it’s not a huge lie but my system can’t seem to differentiate between a whopper and a barely noticeable one because to the little parts of my system and the traumatised parts – a lie is a lie. And if she’ll lie about this what else has she said that isn’t true?

So, as I was just about to start work I fired off a quick reply:

I guess you don’t know that your Zoom calendar updates my end too for our stuff, and I’ve known that this Friday has been off the cards for weeks now. Please don’t lie to me. I can handle changes – because we always said Fridays would be moveable and not guaranteed. I’m less good at whatever this is. And I get you probably didn’t want to tell me because there never seems a good time when things are crap – but I’d rather know than you avoid telling me because you think I’ll react badly. I wouldn’t have. 

That’s all I could say in the moment – but it was at least better than running away and completely retreating from it – which is what I wanted to do.

And then I had to try and teach three lessons on the bounce as my internal scaffolding collapsed and I wanted to run away and curl up in a ball and cry.

I can’t explain how difficult it is to be present online 1:1 with a student when my emotional world is in meltdown. There is literally nowhere to hide.

Not long after I sent that message email flashed up another notification. Elle again:

I’m so sorry honey, you’re right that she didn’t just ask. I’m so sorry I lied and said that. I didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten to tell you and for you to feel unimportant and like you don’t matter, But the truth is I had forgotten, and then tried to cover it up.

Will you forgive me for being cowardly? I feel as if I really fucked up.

Not long after this my phone rang and it was Elle but as I was teaching and I couldn’t answer and even if I could have I wasn’t sure if it was a deliberate call from her…or one of those accidental dials because she hadn’t text me, “Can I call you?” not that she’s ever called me unplanned before – and she didn’t leave a voicemail or follow it up with a text.

As it was, I was teaching until 8pm with no gaps and by the time I finished and would have been able to return the call I knew that she was off doing ‘the thing’ she does with my friend (groan) and wouldn’t have been available anyway. Not that I would ever call her ad-hoc even if I wanted to because ‘boundaries’ and ‘good client behaviour’ and all that stuff.

You can probably imagine, that by the time I got done with work I was in a right state so I just took myself off to bed. Sometimes there isn’t anything to be gained by messaging in an upset state and I also knew that I wouldn’t get a reply anyway as Elle wasn’t ‘there’ and that would have triggered me even more.

On Wednesday morning Elle emailed me again:

I’m so sorry I let you down lovely girl, and that I didn’t honour our trust.

Please know though that me lying was never about protecting myself from you or your reaction, it was (and is always) about me feeling like making mistakes or being less than perfectly caring means that I’m not enough. 

I’m always fighting that programming, and when my resistance is low, like it is right now, I fuck up. I lie to cover the fact that I’ve been careless or clumsy, because in my world that was the worst thing I could ever do.

I know that for you a lie could mean that everything I have said is now being called into question, and that your trust in me has potentially been broken irrevocably. But please know that I will not and will never avoid talking about these things with you, taking responsibility and doing my best to mend your trust. Because this is just as important for me as it is for you.

I really hope you want to see me on Tuesday.

Elle xxxx

I didn’t really know what to say in that moment. I was so upset still. It’s hard to explain what a sucker punch to the gut being lied to by the person I have trusted the most with my most vulnerable self felt like, and I was without words. I could register that that was an apology but somehow it didn’t land. I guess there were so many parts activated that it would take more than an email to mend.

I had hardly slept on Tuesday night and so once I got the kids off to school I took myself off to bed again, lay under my weighted blanket and cried myself to sleep.

That probably sounds really dramatic but there’s been a lot of tears this week and a lot of crying in bed. But I think those of you that have deep relational wounds and are deeply attached to your therapists will understand what it might feel like for this to happen. It just felt so much like the special thing that I thought we had built, that means so much to me, in reality means nothing much at all to her…because I would never choose to lie if it meant risking our relationship – and from her email she as clearly aware what this might mean for my trust in her and our relationship.

And I know it was only a small lie…and she’s clearly tried to reach out to put it right…but is that enough? I dunno. Not for some parts of me. I was so far gone by that point all that really would have reached through this mess would have been to properly talk and ideally see her in person…and that wasn’t on the cards. If there is a rupture I will never ask for contact like that even if it is what parts of me are screaming out for. If Elle doesn’t offer if then I am not going to ask especially if I am already feeling the very things she didn’t want me to feel, ‘unimportant’ and ‘like I don’t matter’.

When I fell asleep I ended up having a terrible dream about being in a train where the sliding doors wouldn’t close. The train started moving and it was windy and unsafe. I knew I needed to raise alarm but I couldn’t get the control panel to work to stop the train. No matter what button I pressed the system wouldn’t let me raise the alarm. I tried to manually shut the sliding doors even though it was really unsafe to do so and once I did it I held it together with a tiny sticker with a handwritten note on – ‘broken- unsafe- do not use’.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see what that’s about. I didn’t feel able to reply properly to Elle’s emails or tell her how I was feeling but I sent her the dream and the Chat GPT analysis…because could it be any better of a metaphor?

Elle replied with something that felt sort of holding but also sort of scary…she told me that she wishes I could see into her heart and see what’s really there – which sounds fine – but then said that “I want to never let you down and to always be a safe person who you feel loved and seen by, but honestly I don’t know if that is possible” and all my alarms started going all at once.

Like total panic.

I had to teach again but I could hardly concentrate.

I felt sick.

All I wanted to do was reach out to Elle, to speak to her, to try and stop this going where my brain was going…and then I did the thing…and I didn’t realise that was what was happening at the time but I fell into the “Shit Shit SHIT she might leave, it sounds like she’s backing away, I need to not be too much and make this all ok before she gives up on me.”

How familiar are we with this pattern? Someone hurts us but if we so much as get a hint of their being wobbly we do all we can to make them feel better even if it means shelving our own hurt and pain. We must preserve the relationship at all costs even if that means denying our own need.

Ugh.

I thought I was being super adult at the time and untriggered (!) and actually all I was doing was fawning. My scared little girl part was doing everything she could to prevent herself from getting left and then went quietly away to her bedroom to cry on her own… again…

Like I don’t not believe what I said in that message, I do, but I didn’t give anything like enough space to the reality of what I was feeling, how much I was struggling, or what I NEEDED in that moment.

This is what I sent:

I think you set entirely too high expectations of yourself. As humans we are always going to make mistakes and let people down and forget things. Because that’s what happens… and when we’re tired and hormones are doing weird things on top it’s even harder. The thing is, all of this could have been so easily avoided by just saying, “RB I thought I’d told you this, and I’ve realised that I haven’t, but I’m not going to be here on Friday” and really what’s the worst that would have happened? Like I might have felt a bit sad about it but we would have talked it though and that would have been that. The world wouldn’t have ended. Instead, you thought it better to lie to me than tell me the simple truth. And I get why you did it. And I get that in some ways it’s not a big deal. But this whole thing is about trust and I have to believe that you don’t lie to me about stuff to stand a chance of believing that you are actually someone safe. Because how am I meant to believe anything you say if you’ll lie about something so minor? And I understand the thing about feeling not enough and having a reaction to feeling like you’ve not been perfect and so it probably feels big in the moment because of the old conditioning around that… but I’ve told you before and I’m saying it again now- I don’t need you to be perfect and I don’t expect it either – I just need you to be real and honest with me. However that looks. Because it’s hurt me that you haven’t trusted me with the truth. And of course it’s triggered all my stuff which I know is exactly the thing you were trying to avoid in the first place… so it’s a bit shit. In your message you said you hoped I would want to see you on Tuesday. And whilst part of me wants to run a million miles in the other direction because I’m hurt, of course I want to see you. Because this is the irritating thing about all this – I’d like to think by now it’s not so fragile that stuff can’t be worked through. But it feels sometimes when this stuff gets triggered – your ‘not enough’ stuff – that you retreat and everything feels different. Like you’re there but it’s not quite you. And I guess maybe there’s a little bit of you that’s hiding too. But I don’t say it lightly when I tell you that I love you and it’s not conditional. But I will have to force feed you soggy orange fondant if you lie to me again xxx 😘 

Elle didn’t reply to that on Wednesday so you can only imagine how that felt. Like here I was struggling to even function, crying, and feeling sick and yet trying to make it better her end, trying to fudge a repair and she didn’t even acknowledge it. I didn’t send it late either, 4pm, but apparently it was fine to leave it or leave me in it.

I got that horrible feeling that the thing they (therapists) all do was happening – you know? Where there’s a rupture and the therapist pulls back? They start only replying in office hours, and then in a way that isn’t consistent with their usual tone and manner? The next thing you know you’re in for a boundary talk and everything that had been so much a part of the therapy gets taken away…and not because of anything you even did. The moment they feel the container is leaking or the frame is wobbly they double down. I really hoped that this wasn’t going to happen but I was ready. Been there, done that, seen it all before, got several t-shirts.

The next day Elle replied and she explained some stuff that we’ve spoken about before and I think it was an attempt to justify what had happened. And it made sense. Like we’ve all told lies and we often do it because it’s hard to be seen as we are – especially if we feel like we’ve cocked up. Like we try and cover our tracks and hope that no one notices. I won’t put that here because it feels especially personal to Elle and doesn’t add anything but I think I felt just a bit unseen in the whole thing – like I needed something that acknowledged my pain, not why it happened.

I replied:

Well, I think maybe it’s better to tell the truth and deal with the consequences which are probably always going to be way less bad than you imagine (these days at least – or at least where you and me are concerned), than lie and have the fall out of that. I think most people can cope with people being fallible and making mistakes but struggle far more with being deceived even if it’s meant well. Or that’s how it is for me. I’ve been lied to such a lot in these seemingly benign ways and then what’s actually underneath has been so bad and so painful that it makes me really scared. I don’t want to feel like I’m now having to watch really carefully for patterns repeating but it’s my default. Like this all looks horribly familiar to Anita’s burnout trajectory… even if it’s not. It never starts with a huge thing, it’s always small stuff. So, I’m on high alert for the next thing – which is generally a subtle form of retreat. 

This week all just feels like a double whammy of ouch. Maybe I’m just more sensitive to what you see as shrinking in for a second because I feel it acutely as a pulling back. It’s like you disappear, or maybe you’re there but only in 2D and in black and white. And it feels really hard because when this stuff happens all I want to do is disappear and I know that doesn’t really help me so instead I try really hard not to, but also try really hard to not come at things from a really triggered place and ground a bit first…and when I do that and can’t find anything but the hollowed out version of you or feel you’re gone altogether it’s really bad because I feel like I am putting my really vulnerable self out there only to be met with distance. That’s how it feels anyway. I guess it’s probably because in that moment so much of my not enough and too much stuff is triggered that I’m fearing the very worst.

It feels a bit like trying to communicate down one of those telephones with two cups and bit of string and I can kind of see you off in the distance but not quite hear what’s coming down the line and you’re too far away to see your face. I just want to hold your hand and know that this didn’t all happen because of something I’ve done wrong or because you’ve had enough and just need a break from caring for me. 

😞

Elle replied and assured me that she wasn’t burning out and that what I feared was happening isn’t and that she’d be there on Tuesday.

But then if she isn’t burning out why did she choose to lie to me?

Knowing Elle was away now with her friend I didn’t bother to reply…and the great news about this not being fully resolved is that my system has had plenty of time to catastrophise about everything that has happened because Elle isn’t here, we haven’t spoken, and I am left hanging with this turning it over in my mind in a million different ways and looking at it through all the lenses of all my little parts like I am staring into a kaleidoscope of fear and heartbreak and turning the dial.

Tbh this all feels a bit like I’ve been in a hit and run and she’s gone, “I can see you might have a few broken bones there and it looks like you’re bleeding out from your chest, but just sit tight for a few days and we can get this patched up next Tuesday.”

And that isn’t great.

I guess from my emails it looks like I am largely fine, in my adult and can see this as a rupture that is perfectly navigable and survivable.

Only that’s not the whole story.

What’s written between the lines?

Oh my god, there’s a story.

The thing I keep circling back round to is that this relationship matters way more to me than it does to her. And I get it. That’s how therapy works. Like this is how it has always been. It’s us (clients) that get really attached and bring all our early wounds into the therapy and the therapist who becomes the stand-in parent. I am just one of Elle’s clients and I am her work. I know that. But to me she is such a lot. Like she is so important…and I usually feel ok about that. I usually feel like my feelings are ok, welcomed, not too much, and that they are reciprocated to a degree – but this week has just triggered the biggest amount of shame in me.

Like how do I find myself here again?

Why do I never learn?

Why have I opened my heart up to someone who clearly doesn’t appreciate what that actually means? I’ve always felt that Elle holds my heart and our relationship so carefully (and I really need to write about our 2 year anniversary and the break we had) but it felt like this week she had a choice to make: lean into and trust in the connection even if she did feel like it might cause a bit of upset or choose to disconnect altogether from me and the relationship in favour of a quick get out of jail free moment. And she chose the disconnect.

Clearly, I really struggle with lying (not just being lied to but even telling lies). It does things in my body. I feel physically uncomfortable. My stomach goes tight. My heart races. My mouth goes a bit dry. I feel a bit prickly behind my eyes. And I just don’t feel ok. Don’t get me wrong though. I am a good liar. Or I used to be, once upon a time. I used to lie like my survival depended on it. Especially when I was consumed by anorexia and was self-harming… I used to be able to look people dead in the eye and lie, because I told it like a truth.

I can’t do that now. Or I could. But I absolutely refuse to.

I have never once told a lie to Elle. I don’t deliberately withhold things from her. One of the things I have vowed to myself in my therapy is that even if the truth feels uncomfortable, it’s worth saying. It might feel scary or downright toe-curlingly shame inducing but I feel like if I tell the truth, and people stay then they are my people and there’s really nothing all that bad that I could ever say anyway. I truly believe that honesty and vulnerability are the only paths to true connection (ha, hello Brene Brown!)…and that’s what I want. I don’t want a half-formed ghost version of a connection. I want the real, warts and all one.

If I feel I have to lie or bend myself to preserve a relationship then I don’t really want it anyway because I’ve done that my whole life growing up. I did it so much with Em – I never lied but I held back a lot…until I didn’t… and the more I let Em see me, the more I told her my reality the less she could cope with me and my feelings. I could have saved myself a lot of pain and misery if I’d not taken years to build up to telling her how I felt. In the end she saw me as a tick but I had always been a tick hadn’t I, she just didn’t know! Certainly those feelings I had for her came about nine months after I met her and yet it took eight years for it to blow up and break the therapy because I hid so well. I won’t do that now.

When I saw Anita I went into it without my armour but as she started to lose her capacity I started to put it back on a piece at a time. I armoured up and withheld stuff in order to be ‘easier’ for her. I didn’t lie. I just didn’t always tell her what was going on because I didn’t want to push her away. I basically reverted to type. I made myself smaller. I hid my struggles and my needs to try and give her space to get through what was going on for her. It didn’t work though, did it? It just delayed the agony ultimately.

With Elle it’s been slow and steady work. I feel like it has been such an exercise in trust and bravery, especially given all that’s come before. I have opened up to her in a way I didn’t think I would be able to. And so to have her so easily lie to me feels like a kick in the teeth. I have tried so hard to connect in an authentic way…and I believed that she was doing the same. But now I just feel like ‘work’ and someone whom she can easily discard and disconnect from. And it hurts.

My most unkind protector – the Inner Critic is having an absolute field day spouting their most favourite lines “You absolute loser, you can’t even pay someone to be in a relationship with you and care. Can’t you see what this is? It’s a game that she plays with you for a couple of hours a week to make you think you matter but the reality is, you’re just money to her. You pay the bills. If you mattered to her she’d show you through the most basic behaviour. She wouldn’t like to you. We don’t lie to people that really matter.”

And it’s really really hard to disagree with that voice.

Part of me wants to think maybe it’s the very opposite that is true. Maybe Elle lied because I matter to her. Maybe she didn’t want to hurt me or make me feel any of this painful stuff. I don’t think the logic behind what she’s done is great but I can see why it could be the case.

Either way, this week has activated all my really painful stuff and I haven’t had anywhere at all to put it.

Part of me is really angry too – well isn’t Anger just Hurt’s bodyguard? Like, why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t this therapy just be what it said on the tin? What do I keep doing wrong to make it so that therapists treat me like this? Why can’t I just be safe and loved and matter enough to not have someone hurt me in this way?

It’s hard not to see Elle’s actions as coming from a place of just being completely bored of having to think about how to manage my attachment stuff. Like, her initial message said, she hadn’t had time to write something… and so in her mind any time she leaves I demand time and energy just to get a weekend away. So perhaps this is my fault. Maybe if I wasn’t so high need then she wouldn’t have felt the need to lie. She probably just told her other Friday appointments that she wasn’t available and that was that.

So, this all makes me feel rotten. I feel my usual wonderful combo of ‘too much’ and ‘not enough’. Too much need and too much work and not important enough for anyone to truly care or love me.

I don’t know what the answer is here.

It’s only Sunday. I feel broken…and it’s a long way til Tuesday. Of course, I have no sense of the Elle I know being out there at all now because this is what happens when there’s distance and a rupture. My brain is serving ‘danger’ and all the rest of it.

I soooooo want to believe that we will be ok.  I want to believe that if I tell her how hurt I am that she will do her best to repair this and take the time to work through it with me – even if it takes a really long time… I need her not to be defensive or reactive…but I have no idea what state she is in and whether she has the energy or capacity to go with me where I need to go. Because let’s be real, this has hit on a very deep wound and it’s going to take some healing. I feel like this is something that will be dredged up over and over again. I will be constantly looking for reassurance and testing.

I hate this.

Part of me is reluctant to post this blog up because I’m worried that if Elle comes across it – now, or later – she’ll see it as a criticism of her, or somehow see it as sharing too much of what’s gone on between us with the outside world. I imagine she’d feel fucked off that I’ve copied some of the messages she’s sent to me here but I honestly don’t know what to do or where to turn for support or reassurance at the moment.

If Elle and I do make it through this I don’t want her to stop messaging me because she thinks our communications will only end up on the blog because that isn’t how it is. I’ve always been so careful here to not really talk any detail about what she says to me – I’ve protected her/us in a way that I never did Em or Anita because I’ve felt so protective of our relationship and what we’ve created together. I value her and the relationship such a lot…and right now I just don’t know what to do.

I don’t know how we’ll come through this because I feel like there’s a massive part of me that will struggle to trust her ever again. How can I be sure of anything now?

Perhaps a white lie is no big deal. Maybe I am just too sensitive. Maybe my trauma makes me too reactive. All I know is that I feel completely at sea and completely alone. I wish Elle understood how in a simple bending of the truth she’s taken a machete to my trust in her and set fire to the deep connection we were weaving together.

I’m sure Elle is having a wonderful time away, though…lucky her.

I think this may be the longest post I have ever written – shoot me now.x