Dear Elle,

This is unusual for me, I don’t think I have ever written a letter to you that I haven’t sent or shared with you, and yet today I am writing this ‘hard stuff’ to you and it won’t end up in an email in your inbox or as a text to your phone, instead it’ll sit somewhere out on the internet on my blog. I don’t know whether this is a good thing or not. I imagine for you it will be a welcome relief that you won’t, once again, be bombarded with some form of contact from me.

Part of me would like to think that by not sending this letter to you it shows some kind of progress on my side. I suppose it could be viewed as ‘holding this for myself’…and if that was the true motivation for keeping all these feelings away from you then that would probably be great, wouldn’t it? The thing is, as we both know, my struggle has always been letting people ‘see me’ and ‘know me’ when I am struggling – it isn’t a good thing at all when I stop reaching out and sharing – it’s a return to default programming.

The reason I am not sending this letter to you today is because I have got myself so worked up that I don’t feel confident that it would land how it is meant and I am scared of the consequences of that. The truth is, I am basically drowning in the being ‘too much’ and simultaneously ‘not enough’ place, right now. My attachment stuff is in meltdown and my traditional go-to when it is like this is to go into hiding. This place of fear and self-imposed isolation is so familiar to me – but sooooooo painful, too, and more than anything I wish I could override the part of me that is freaking out with the ‘therapy heebie-jeebies’ and just text you and check in with the truth: Elle, I am struggling and it feels like I am falling apart. Are we ok?

The one thing I have always been with you is honest, and I have worked really hard at not letting my past experiences cloud what happens between us. Even when I have felt worried and scared that my ‘truth’ … or really, just ‘I’ would be too much for you I have always let you in and given you the opportunity to respond as Elle even when it has felt excruciating to do so. I’ve done this because you aren’t Em, or Anita, or my mum…or anyone else that has hurt me, and I have trusted that the only way to get over the hurts of the past is to allow you into my house of horrors and let you see what’s really there…even if I have wanted to turn all the lights off and lock a few cupboards and direct your attention outside to the beautiful flower garden that I have planted.

But today I have hit a block and for some reason, I can’t tell you what’s happening. And it is my fault. I can see how I have got here, and why I have got here…and I don’t know how to get myself out of it because the shame is getting bigger than my ability to combat it and we all know what happens when shame isn’t witnessed or given empathy – it gets huge and swallows us whole until there is no way we believe that there isn’t something incredibly wrong with us and can no longer believe that we are worthy of love and care.

I am so conscious of not wanting to fuck things up with you, and especially right now when my life seems to be going down the toilet. I’d sooner sit in this discomfort and know that I am not actively doing anything that could break us…or break you. Only I know this is wrong – because by not talking to you I am probably going to fuck things up because my internal narrative gets more and more fucked up and my inability to see what’s really in front of me increases. The moment I start looking for rejection and abandonment I see it everywhere…or my young parts do.

My time with you is so precious to me and I am so painfully aware (because of the past – before you) that things between us could implode if I bring all my need and big feelings right now. It’s funny, typing that, I can hear your voice in my head saying, “Lambkin, don’t be silly, there’s nothing that could make me leave you. You’re human and having a hard time and your need for me doesn’t scare me. You’re not too much and I am here holding your hand until I see you on Tuesday.” Because you’ve told me a version of that a million times before. I text you last weekend with “I miss you” and you replied almost immediately with a really holding message. You show up for me time and again…

And yet, today, I feel a million miles away from you. In fact, it’s worse than that – I feel like you are completely gone even if I have just called you to mind – or a more resilient part of me has. It’s hard. Like I said, part of me wants to reach out to you and seek some kind of reassurance that we are ‘ok’. And it is so simple.. and yet too hard right now. And this is what it is like when my system – the famous mini bus – is hurtling off down the track at brake neck speed without anyone being strapped in. There are so many conflicting or competing needs and voices that I just can’t cope. Adult me sort of knows it’s all ok, but the hurt child parts don’t get it at all.

I wonder if you have noticed how I have become ‘more’ lately. I have tried so hard not to be, extra, especially since my wife lost her job and you are seeing me for free. My internal world is so shaken and all my stuff around lack of safety and rejection and abandonment is so activated that it is total agony outside the room. I have tried to not be a complete fucking basket case when I see you, partly because I just want to have some time with you where I can ‘rest’ and feel contained and partly because you aren’t paid enough for this shit at the best of times, and you certainly shouldn’t have to put up with it unpaid!

There is a part of me that wants to cling on so tightly to you the moment I get in the room and be wrapped in your arms for the entire time I am with you. And, I know that if I reached for you that would happen – because I’ve done it before… plenty. It’s weird, though, at the moment we are close, I mean I am literally leant against you and you hold my hand… but I think what it is, is that I am keeping parts of me away from you. ‘Frustrated-with-life Adult Me’ is turning up and chatting away to you…but the very small parts that have missed you such a lot in the week aren’t there. Or they are, but they are hidden behind the sofa and you can’t see them. They desperately need cuddles, and stories, and head strokes, and reassurance and I get all I need to do is ask – but I can’t at the moment.

It’s hard. I understand why this stuff is so badly triggered. The moment my life gets a bit unsteady then every past trauma is triggered on top. My nervous system can’t differentiate which risks or fears are reality in the here and now, it just piles everything in together.

When there is so much going on in my world right now, and my system is so…mental!…so, activated, it’s super hard not seeing you as much as I am used to. And I get I am seeing you…and I am soooo grateful to you for everything that you are doing for me. I mean it is really staggeringly kind of you and it really feels incredible that you would do this for me when you absolutely don’t have to. But the little parts of me are finding the change in routine difficult. Today is Friday and the ‘falling apart’ feeling has ramped up. And it makes sense. We don’t speak on Friday anymore on our call, and the in person occasional Friday sessions that felt like such a gift are not happening either. And of course that is fine. But the fallout for my system that struggles so much with distance and containment is not doing great.

Last week you text me out the blue on Friday and it really soothed this place and the part that fears being left or forgotten about. Because you reached out, I knew that you were thinking of me and that felt so soothing. I think that contact allowed me to give myself permission to reach back to you from this place of “I miss you” rather than a slightly avoidant ‘lighter’ place.

Lately most of my communications to you have been day-to-day fluff. I think the thing you should probably know, and probably do know, is that whatever the communication is from me it is always about connection seeking. Sometimes it may be raw and vulnerable (like this), and other times completely random and non-descript insta links and humour…but fundamentally the messaging underneath is the same, and that is that I am checking that you are still there, that we are ok…and that I miss you.

And right now, that is it.

I miss you. A lot.

I am struggling to know what is the ‘right amount’ of contact with you now. Because I really don’t want to overdo it…and yet, I know that I am…and I know that the reason for this is because my system is having a meltdown and just reaching for you over and over in different ways … because to some parts it feels like you are gone, and to others there’s a fear of being left, and then…there’s messy me…who is writing this who just desperately wants things to work out.

I feel embarrassed that I find myself here. Like I know what’s happening. I know why it’s happening. I understand it sooooo well – and yet I can’t switch out of it – or turn it off.

I absolutely don’t want to be “too dependent” or worse, “like a tick”. I don’t want to be alone with all these escalating feelings that make me behave in a way that I know is frustrating (to both of us). Like I get it. I just don’t know what the answer is right now. My system is terrified of distance at the moment and so even if you aren’t distancing yourself from me – it’s how it feels – to part of me at least.

I sent you an email yesterday which was a little more feelings and less day-to-day crap and you didn’t reply to me. Usually, you would. And of course, now, I don’t know what to think because my crazy is dialled right up on high. I don’t want to make a mountain out of a molehill. I know I’m freaking out because things are necessarily different and I absolutely don’t think that’s a problem. None of this is about getting things to change – I’m hoping soon my life will get better and we can go back to things as they were. It’s just right now, I need you to know that as much as it may seem like I have my shit together and that everything is fine enough (considering the shitshow I am living in) – it’s not.

Ugh.

Fuck it all.

Man, I wish it was Tuesday…and that you secretly read my blog! lol.

Love From your most demanding, angsty, needy, client. xxx

p.s can we just snuggle next week. Thanks.