Jun 2

 This last week has been tough.

My mentals have deteriorated. Into hardcore no nonsense depression territory. I am always in there anyway by and large. But. It has descended. Into that. Unavoidable perma misery, absolutely flat, twitchy emotions stage. 

It has been extremely difficult on some of those days. Where some aspects of physical illness also chime in. Repeated nausea. It has pushed me to the brink. And I have retreated. Hard. At times my sanity has been sketchy.

Today was therapy day.

Today my emotions were on a knife edge.

I had planned today to talk about loss and grief. And my terrible coping with it. But instead. We got sidetracked. And we talked about how I was feeling today. Awful. We went through it. Mostly we set out definitions and terms where I was trying to set the context for it, rather than being pigeon holed into one thing.

She used the word unsafe. I felt unsafe. Threatened. And reacted accordingly. The reaction, sure, a threat reaction, but unsafe. That's not the trigger. We sort of agreed to disagree. But she accepted and understood my insistence on not forcing it into a frame just to fit a diagnosis. When all you have is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail. She understood.

So we kinda got nowhere. I talked for 50 minutes which felt like 5. I made a duty of care check with her at the start. That I was concerned what I would talk to her about would harm her. That I understood that it was an occupational hazard, and therapists chose to endure that, but, me, my stuff, I think, I am fairly sure, that if I take someone by the hand and lead them down my paths, and show them things, it is... not good. She understood. She understood before I said it that some doors once gone through could not be unentered. Yes. Exactly. It is basically a loss of innocence is what it is. Like believing the Wizard of Oz is your security. Your wisdom. Your stability. And then finding out there is no Wizard of Oz. And all those responsibility are actually yours, and that the universe does not work like that, and you are far more unsafe, unfulfilled, unimportant than you once thought.

Enlightenment. Gets very dicey beyond a certain level.

She understood. Understood the risks. And was committed to engage. And that if necessary the sessions could be stopped. And that was her choice. 100%. Yes. Her responsibility. Her choice. I said on my half, I had to say something as a duty of care. 

But.

The fact remains. Trying to close the door once it's opened doesn't work. Stopping sessions because of something that disturbs you can be well too late.

But.

I have made sure she understands. That she is committed. It is her choice. And I will respect that.

Next week we will talk about loss and grief.

Today after many weeks of radio silence I decided to send a feeler out to Hazel. Mostly to check in on Poppy. But also just see how Hazel was doing.

The worst.

Poppy is gone. Put to sleep on Thursday. Her condition badly deteriorated over the course of 48 hours. And she is gone. Hazel says she is coping. And that perhaps it hasn't fully settled in yet. And that maybe getting those extra few months to spend with her after she thought she was going to lose her has helped. Grief is unique to everyone. It has the same riffs. But everyone reacts to it differently.

I am trying not to spiral on the news.

I spent a lot of quality time with Poppy. One on one. And also with Athena. And also with the three of them, Ares, Athena and Poppy. In a lot of ways she was like my part time dog. I spent many many months with her. Her sleeping with me. Walks. Shared snacks. Scritches.

I am trying hard not to dwell on the loss of her unique essence and nature. And just frame it. In positive memories.

I am not doing well.

And this just feels like insult to injury.

The universe is teaching me a lot about loss. Year. After year. After year.

I do not like this world.

And I do not like this life.

I wish I had never been born.