Estrangement: There is no right way to do it

Months ago I made a decision to go no contact with a family member. I was grieving and the heartbreak was so intense I was physically sick and sobbing daily for over a month. It was my choice, but it still was excruciating. I could not listen to a song that reminded me of them. I would watch a show that we both love and wish I could talk about it with them. I would have a great day at work and want to give them a call. It just wasn’t worth the unhealthy cycles and how many times it prevented my own healing.

I wrote about this before, so I am not going to make that the focus of this post. This post is about opening contact.

Months ago I told myself I was going to eliminate all contact with the possibility that things could change down the road. I did not have a specific time in mind. The decision was intended to be a “forever.” This was all dependent on if the boundary would be respected, if changes would occur, and when I would open the door on my own terms.

There is no right way to go no contact. Likewise, there is no right way to open contact.

Recently I opened that door. It started with cracking open that door. It felt like putting my foot in water to see if my toe would get bit off. It began with a situation where I had no choice to open contact in a serious matter. I made it clear that speaking in that moment didn’t mean everything would be back to “normal” now. Not that anything was normal before..

In the early months of cutting contact, my boundary was not respected, but months went by and I noticed the silence finally became consistent. They proved to me that they would give me my space, and my guilt and grief diminished. I could go on with my life a bit easier.

A big change happened not too long ago. I reached out willingly to acknowledge a holiday even though I wasn’t attending. At first I felt guilty. Notice how I was guilty for cutting contact, and then I became guilty for opening contact? I was worried I was betraying myself, but I started to see it with a new perspective. This was different. I was making this choice on my terms, the same way I chose to cut contact. I was making this choice knowing this person understood that they had to earn a place in my life, and understood that I will do what I need to do going forward.

This person surprised me when they did not guilt-trip me for my absence. They never brought up the holidays I missed or made the focus on their emotions. They simply appreciated that I was talking to them in that moment. It has nothing to do with reward or punishment, but for lack of better words it taught them that respecting my boundaries is all I ask for. If they did that, I would show them they could have even a small place in my life.

Where we are at now: There is still a distance between us. I saw them recently and it wasn’t as hard as I thought. I didn’t avoid them, we were civil, we were communicating, but it felt very appropriate and boundaried. Things still feel distant, there is a clear separation, but in a good way. I see it more as I have my life and they have theirs. This is working for us. I feel content.

This person also communicated to me how during the no contact, they did a lot of reflecting. It didn’t seem like times before where I received an apology and then they would do the same hurting again. Again, this wasn’t about punishment, but by cutting them out, I gave them the time to look inward. They were unable to do this when I was still present.

Life is messy and I kind of had to live in gray.

I couldn’t see it this way at first, but I needed to tell myself that if I resumed communicating with them, it didn’t mean that I was weak or I don’t have willpower, or that I am absolving them of their actions. I also needed to tell myself the opposite, that eliminating all contact didn’t make me a bad person.

I guess I needed to make a conscious decision which said, “you know, I am going to maintain these relationships in whatever way makes sense or works for me.”

If I live on this little island of good, and it’s because I need it, then I don't think that it has to mean all of those other things.

Once I felt more confident in my own ability to set an emotional (and physical) boundary, it hasn’t been as hard or scary to interact with them, because I know that they’re not going to be able to move the core of me.

How I lived the past months was where I was at right there and then. This is where I am right now. It doesn’t mean there is a permanent change. It simply means I have proved to myself that I can set and maintain boundaries, I can express and believe my worth, but despite it not being easy I will be OK.

Every relationship and story is different. This is my story about one person, where my stories with others I have lost contact with are different. This is why there is no “right” way to go no contact. Going no contact is about what is right for you as an individual based on your experience. I am still exploring what this means for me, but I do know no matter what I must give myself grace for wherever I am at.

I said a strong statement the other day. I told my therapist that this feels a lot worse than when *insert a past trauma*. I really can’t compare the two. I wasn’t saying that my trauma wasn’t bad, but this was the best way I could describe how awful I feel. I told my therapist that the emotional pain is so bad, so intense, and the stress it is creating feels crippling.

“It’s hard to like myself right now.”

Well, there it is.

Guilt.

In my post about what I learned this Christmas, I wrote, “There is a difference between feeling guilty, as in I’m doing something wrong VS. this is a really difficult decision and I’m sad I have to make it, but it is the right one for me.”

I may learn these things, but I need to consistently remind myself of them.

I tell myself, “You do not have a reason to feel guilty. You did nothing wrong.” It is so hard to believe it sometimes.

I have never experienced guilt like this before. I’ve always tried to do the good thing, the right thing. I’ve always tried to do the thing that will not hurt someone else. Is this what true guilt feels like? Turns out you can feel guilt even when you have not done a bad thing or made a mistake. I feel guilty about doing the right thing.

There are physical symptoms of guilt. I have had shooting neck pain and a headache for over a week. I am having trouble sleeping, and when I do I am having disturbing nightmares. I always have had nightmares, but they went away for a while, only now to return. Thinking about my situation can trigger nausea so badly that a couple times in the past week I have put a trash can at the side of my bed. My appetite is poor. My PTSD symptoms have returned, and I will find myself shaking under the covers. My chest will hurt. I will start to cry, not always because I am sad, but because physically I feel so terrible. My stomach is out of whack; I have been using a heating pad because of the pain. I ask myself if this will get easier. Is this happening because everything is still fresh? What if I physically feel worse and worse?

Guilt. This is all because of guilt. Guilt for text messages I have not replied to. Guilt for Christmas gifts I have not retrieved or exchanged. I have been turning to online support forums, friends, my therapist, reading quotes, over and over again asking if I really am doing the right thing. Is my body responding because this is new and change is scary, or because it is telling me it truly does not want this? I listened to my body when it told me I needed to go no contact, and now I’m listening to my body as it tells me how hard no contact truly is.

This is how I’ve grown up. I have always chosen my own hurt, my own discomfort, to avoid the conflict that comes with saying, “no.” I have been told I am “too nice.” So here I am, doing the opposite of what I have done my whole life. Here I am, putting myself first over my family. Here I am, feeling like I am bad. I feel like a kid, who has done a bad thing.

I have been reading a book regarding no contact and unhealthy family dynamics. One of the things I learned is the difference between abandonment and no contact. Without this understanding, comes guilt. One of the paragraphs states, “Instead of viewing our decision as ignoring them or abandoning them, we can look at it from the vantage point that we have simply changed the form of the relationship we share with them.” “The relationship is silent and ordered rather than chaotic.” (Excerpt from But It’s Your Family..Sherrie Campbell)

It doesn’t mean I don’t think about them. I do, a lot. It doesn’t mean I don’t care about them. It means that right now, I am protecting myself.

I don’t know what the future will hold. Maybe within this year I will open contact again. Maybe this will happen sooner than intended. Maybe I will reach a place of acceptance, enforce stricter boundaries than what I had before, and have low contact rather than none. Perhaps I can open a door for low communication, and still avoid all holidays and family gatherings. I’ve tried this, so maybe it is not possible. Maybe this will deny me of peace. However, maybe I can do it. Whatever decision I make, I don’t want it to be out of guilt, fear, or sadness. I want to make the decision knowing I will create peace within myself. I want to make the decision without hoping things will change. Maybe there doesn’t need to be an all or nothing.

I never believed it was OK to do the back and forth of opening and closing the door. I might have held on to this belief because I thought it was annoying or confusing for them. I told myself it would be harder for them to truly understand what they did wrong. What I am learning during this period of no contact, is that their feelings are not for me to worry about. If or when I’m ready, I can open or crack open that door with the intention of knowing that once I am disrespected, or manipulated again, the door will close for however long I want it to.

I know that in the past, opening the door only led to disappointment and hurt again. I am reminding myself I have choices, and that nothing has to be permanent. Knowing this, makes it easier to breathe. It can be a mental workout- having thoughts of guilt and self-doubt, to then try and think rationally about things. I have been learning to stop myself when I hear thoughts of self-doubt, and challenge it. When I am unable to do this, or the thoughts get too loud, it helps me to talk it through with someone else.

This period of no contact is bringing up hurt, but there would still be hurt if there was contact. Right now, I recognize how much good I am also gaining from this. I am learning a lot about myself, and the unhealthy situations I no longer want to put myself in. I am learning how to give myself what I deserve. What I am doing is crucial, not just for my wellbeing, but for my growth.

It has been 1 month. Crap, it has been 1 month as of today. When I first stopped responding, when I first put my foot down, I anticipated the worst. What if someone dies? What if something really bad happens? Certainly shit has hit the fan this past month, and certainly people have been upset. However, I can take a breath and look out the window and say to myself, “see, the world didn’t implode.” “You don’t feel safe, but you are.”

When I chose to leave graduate school, my program director told me my decision was not a reflection of failure, but a success, as it was a healthy decision I was making for myself.

I believe the same can apply to this.

I will not feel guilty for choosing to be healthy.

It is a new year. I said that I wanted to try and write about new things. I always say this. I end up realizing that it is OK to write about where I am at, and not pressure myself to write by pushing myself where I want to be. My posts may be more gray and gloomy lately, but I have to ride this wave. No matter how long it lasts.

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“What if I become more like someone else and then more things change, or people don’t like me the same?”

This is an old fear. I was reminded that historically the evidence has been that the right people seem to like me, flaws and all.

I was complimented recently for being an independent thinker. This is a good thing, but it doesn’t always feel like a good thing. The problem with going against what others expect you to do, is that people don’t like you as much.

I joked to a friend that I needed to go to Bitch School. Bitch University; taking a course in Bitch 101.

I was joking. The goal is not for me to become a bitch, but I do want to worry less about becoming somebody I would not want to be. I grew up believing that if I stood up for myself, I was being a bitch. I was told that I was. I am afraid of changing in a negative way. Instead of this “what if” I would like to ask myself “what if I change into someone I really like?”

There are 3 specific parts of me who are coming to the forefront lately. There is someone older, who wants to do good, but gets too caught up in her feelings. There is someone who is angry and feels incredibly misunderstood and unimportant. There is also someone younger, who is a bit naive, and surprised that nothing is how she imagined it was. There is another part that I can’t name right now. I believe this is the part that is in the process of changing and becoming.

Lately I have been asking myself in different situations which part of me is showing itself. Sometimes I am feeling all of those things at once and everything becomes clouded. It has been helpful to notice this when everything feels mixed up. I am able to say, “Oh okay this is coming from this, and this is coming from this. No wonder I am confused!”

I am feeling so good and also so terrible. I am feeling good about the space I have created, and I am feeling a bit more peace. I am also feeling terrible because I feel like I am disappearing. I know I wrote about this in a recent post. Everything feels harder because of this dissociation/depersonalization. I tend to confuse dissociation with depression. I know it would make sense if I was feeling both of them. Maybe I don’t even have to name it.

At times where I am struggling, I have to treat it the same as I would a physical sickness, or my arthritis. I have to take extra care of myself, and right now I am dragging my feet.

My work is so close, but driving feels exhausting. I have to work harder to focus whether it is remembering conversations, eye contact, where I am going, where I came from. When I meet with people at work I want to be 100% present with them, but I worry they will also recognize I am different. I wish I wasn’t working right now. I wish I had a break from more in life, not just certain people. I also know that working is helping me to get out of my head a bit.

I feel incredibly lonely and alone. Just because I have less people who are there for me right now, does not mean that those who are there for me are not making a difference. Those who are there for me at this time are helping me without even trying to “make it better.” It also would make sense that I feel alone, because I feel less connected to myself. I am trying so hard to feel present again. I worry that if I push myself out of how my body is choosing to heal, the pain will be unbearable.

Most of my writing lately has sounded like one big contradiction. I am sorting out my feelings, my opinions, my understanding. It sounds so simple, but I’m not sure people can truly understand how overwhelming this feels. I need to accept that some people just can’t understand. I can’t blame them. I just want clarity. I want things to start making sense. I also wonder if I am asking these questions because I am already on my way to things making sense.

If that makes sense..

how my body has responded to setting a huge boundary:

My reflection is a stranger.

The world is a dream through my eyes.

I move my legs and I feel nothing.

Do they even belong to me?

I look in the mirror and someone is staring back at me.

I’m not sure that I know her.

I hear myself talking to familiar faces.

My voice doesn’t sound like mine.

I move my hands and they look smaller;

they look unfamiliar.

I worry I have to re-teach myself how to drive.

I hit the road without thinking about the motions.

I still am unsure how I got from point A to point B.

Even right now I am typing,

but these thoughts don’t feel like mine.

If none of this is me, I’m not sure who it is.

It has to be me, it couldn’t possibly be someone else.

I have experienced something similar before.

It scared me then, just as it is scaring me now.

I know I feel this way now, and it doesn’t mean I will feel this way forever.

I am well aware that this is my body trying to protect me.

I must remind myself of this when everything feels against me.

But I sit in the tub and ask myself when the switch will flip.

When will the light turn back on?

I made one decision.

I made one hard, impossible decision.

I do not regret it, but it hurts.

It even hurts when I feel nothing at all.

I didn’t expect my world to turn upside down.

I didn’t expect to lose myself in the process of finding myself.

When something is missing, it doesn’t mean it is gone.

I am in there somewhere.

Well, I did it. Christmas has come and gone. This was the hardest Christmas. I have been emotionally preparing for it all month. I knew it was not going to be easy, but it was very hard.

I had a great Christmas with Aly and her family. I was so grateful to feel like a true part of her family. There were laughs, movies, matching pajamas, good food. There were mixed emotions, but ultimately, I wouldn’t have wanted to spend Christmas any other way. Emotions hit me at the dinner table after a phone call with a family member. I wish I had stuck to my plan and kept my phone off. I returned to the table and could not hide my tears. I had to excuse myself twice. I did not eat as much as I would have liked to. Everyone looked sympathetic toward me, and I know they were being caring, but I was embarrassed.

Today, the day after Christmas, I feel guilty. I woke up with self-hatred. I did not do anything wrong by talking to this family member, but I gave them the power, again, to upset me. I can’t change anything. I can’t go back. Sometimes I have to make choices more than once until I really decide enough is enough. Sometimes I have to be disappointed enough times before I truly believe things won’t change. Sometimes feeling better about myself for being kind, is just not worth the hurt I will receive from them. I feel like a bad person if I don’t engage, and I feel disappointed for letting myself down if I do engage.

What I can feel proud of is that I succeeded in doing the absolute hardest part of the holiday season: not attending any of my family’s Christmas events.

I need to focus on the strength that came from setting that boundary and sticking to that boundary. There were so many days and weeks of guilt and sorrow. I had a healthy, happy, Christmas with my girlfriend and her family. I feel hopeful for the Christmas’s to come. This wasn’t nothing. I did it.

I have done so much grieving, and so much reflecting.

What I have learned:

• I do not have to do anything that makes me even a bit uncomfortable during the holidays.

• I do not have to surround myself with people who are “neutral” when it comes to my abuser. There is no such thing as neutral in this case. Neutrality supports the abuser, not the one suffering.

• I used to think that chosen family was not as meaningful as “real” family. This isn’t true. We can’t choose our family. We may surround ourselves with people who we don’t feel we fit in with. We may feel obligated to have relationships with people we likely wouldn’t choose if they were strangers. Chosen family is quite literally people you “choose" and that is what makes them most meaningful.

• People will have reactions to my boundaries, but it does not mean I am a bad person.

• People choose to feel how they feel, and even if my choices make them sad it does not mean it is the wrong thing for me to do.

• What I am gaining from certain relationships is not worth what they are costing me.

• If I break my boundaries to please others, I am still compromising a vital part of myself.

• I am not trying to hurt anyone. I am trying to take care of myself.

• There is a difference between feeling guilty, as in I’m doing something wrong VS. this is a really difficult decision and I’m sad I have to make it, but it is the right one for me.

• To cut contact does not mean I am losing everything, it’s that I am losing the possibility of everything.

• All I have known is to please others, as if nobody is responsible for their own feelings. I am not responsible for anyone’s feelings but my own.

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It is time I write about something new. A new year is coming. This is not to say that the same challenge will not be affecting me anymore. I am sure there will be days where this is exactly what I want to write about. Right now, I need to apply everything that I have been reminding myself of. My challenge for right now is not so much navigating estrangement, but more about re-discovering myself. I have been struggling with dissociation, but more than I ever have before. I feel like I lost a big part of myself, and it has been scaring me. I don’t see the world the same way. Through my eyes, everything is foggy. I do not recognize my reflection in the mirror. I keep shutting down. I can’t speak, can’t move, and it feels like something bad is going to happen. I stop trusting myself. I am coming to understand that I must not feel like myself because I recognize on some level that someone new is emerging. This “someone new” has parts of myself but is also someone entirely different. This feels scary right now because it is unfamiliar. It is unknown. I do not know who is going to come out, and what she’s going to be like.

It is scary doing something that you have never done before. What I am doing, is so hard, and so different from what I have always known. I am changing in the process. Like a snake, I am shedding my skin. I am just hoping that with the changes and choices I am making, I will be prouder of this new me. I will be getting to know her, as everyone else is.

Apparently, this has been in my drafts since April 2018. Though I have made a lot of progress, these same feelings still come up from time to time. Weirdly enough, while I am trying to take a break from writing about estrangement and grief, I believe this post is still connected to that.

My weakness? Goodbyes.

Endings.

Change. (well, sometimes)

I have experienced many of these. So why hasn't it gotten any easier?

I have always been a relational person. When I connect with someone, it is always meaningful to me. I have never had service level friendships, and in small ways people can have an impact on me. I find comfort in their presence. I feel good about who I am when I am with them. I admire certain people in a quiet way, and I don't realize just how attached I am until our paths are finished crossing. I do not have an anxious attachment style, but the traits can certainly affect me at times.

I trust there can be meaning for those who enter my life, and I also trust that some people aren't meant to stay. This is a topic that my wise mind practically does a sweaty workout over (interesting description, Haley). Still, my emotional mind is saying "Yeah ok wise mind; that doesn't matter because it feels like this-"

I have experienced this many times since childhood. A nurse after a surgery, a friend, my school social worker, a teacher. It does not matter who or the amount of time spent. My heart leaps out to people whom I feel safe with. I have learned to tell people when they are appreciated, because can you imagine how many would not know if they were never told?

People see my humanity and vulnerability to be a strength, because very few allow themselves to feel this much. Though, I don't really think I can help it.

---

What this post is truly about isn’t so much about becoming attached to anyone. This is about something I have experienced since I first found a therapist I connected with. The feelings of attachment hit me the worst in therapy, especially this past year.

I am not embarrassed for going to therapy, but I am embarrassed by my attachment to therapists I feel safe with. I know there is nothing wrong with me for feeling this way, I just wish I didn’t.

I have been with several counselors. The first, I was not attached to at all, and our work together did not last long. The second, I was not too attached to either, but I surprised myself when I cried in our last session together before I left for college. Maybe I didn’t think I was attached, but I was gaining more than I thought by having someone listen to me week after week. When I started college, I immediately registered with my school’s counseling center, as I had been hospitalized just months prior. That office was my safe space on campus.

I was in counseling at my college's center for 2 years. My first termination (I hate that word) was at the end of my freshman year, after working with an intern. I will call her J. I knew my time with J would end after her internship, but I did not know I would be so sad when the time came. In our last meeting she handed me a funny drawing of my favorite animal, an elephant, with a list of qualities I share with them. She wrote that I had made an impact on her. It was such a comfort to have that to take with me. My sophomore year, I said goodbye to my next college counselor, S. I planned to work with S until graduation, but my plans drastically changed. My private college closed due to financial trouble. I did not expect to love my school as much as I did, and I did not expect to be leaving after my sophomore year. S, who knew of the intern’s drawing from the year before, sketched me a picture of an elephant as well. This counselor was actually an artist, so I love to see the comparisons between their pictures.

drawing by one of my former college counselors

Even though I was studying to be a social worker, the therapeutic relationship was something I could not wrap my head around. It's not that I don't know. I have enough understanding of the ethics, the boundaries, the process. I understand the difference. It is a safe space to be able to open up. I understand the professionalism, that it is not a "friendship." But it is a unique, and special kind of relationship and it makes sense why people get attached. I am sure if I sought counseling as a child it would be just as hard, if not more.

For many weeks I would be absolutely vulnerable with someone, even at the most difficult times. When the work ends, my heart hurts when it hits that there is now a "goodbye." The goodbye is most painful, because it is not in a way where we can stay in touch. It is a final, our work here is done, and it is time to move on. When someone can be there for you when you feel alone, believe in you, support you, share a laugh, a smile, hold your cries, your story- and then never speak again...it is hard.

I try my best to be thankful that we had that time together, rather than focusing on the time we cannot have.

It hasn't gotten much easier. I don’t dwell on it as much, but I still have triggers from time to time. I have asked myself if it's worth it? Is the work worth the pain I feel with the goodbyes? College counseling, yes, is supposed to be temporary. A part of me still does not understand why these relationships can't continue. Obviously, I do know why. What I mean is how this heart of mine does not hurt any less with this understanding. 

In addition to college counseling, I worked with a therapist for about 2 years who was originally through BetterHelp. She later moved to her own practice where I followed via telehealth. I never met her in-person. This is a complicated story. It is also just hard for me to talk about. I had an endometriosis surgery, (a disease I knew this therapist had as well). I was hospitalized for suicidal ideation within a month after that surgery. While in the hospital, and after I was discharged, she did not address my hospitalization at all. I was very depressed, and likely had some suicidal ideation, but the reason I went to the hospital was because she told me she would call the police on me if I didn’t go. Everything changed once we resumed therapy. She may have been going through something in her personal life. Maybe it was counter-transference, but she turned cold to me. I was reserved, and asking myself what I did wrong. Someone I used to look forward to speaking with, who knew everything about me, became almost a different person. I felt so small.

I did not know our last session would be our last. I felt so uncomfortable during it. When she asked to schedule our next meeting I told her I would reach out to her instead. I definitely waited weeks before I called. I guess the time just passed, and I felt safer not meeting, until I finally reached out again. I didn’t realize it then, but I wanted to wait because I was protecting myself.

When I had called her later, she told me she already closed my file. I feel like this is the part of the story where I would take a long pause. I was shocked. It had been 2 years of us working together, and she just dropped me. She never contacted me during that time to see how I was doing; She never contacted me to see if I wanted to continue services. There was no rule about how long I could go without seeing her before termination. If there was a rule, she never made it clear to me. She still didn’t care enough to try. I felt betrayed, hated, and worthless.

I don’t remember everything she said in that last conversation, but she spoke down to me and her words stung. She basically told me I should have known better. What should I have known? I remember during our call I told her how confused I was, but I didn’t beg, I didn’t fight to stay. I believe I said, “ok” and might have even thanked her for everything. I knew she was done with me, and I just let her get everything out of her system before the call ended and I could fall apart. I allowed this person to bully me, and horribly let me down. I became this child who believed she was in trouble, and who believed she deserved it.

I wanted desperately to fix it. I had a breakdown in my college dorm. I don’t think I can adequately describe my pain in writing. It is a pain someone would only have to feel to truly understand everything that transpired between us. My body physically hurt. I felt like I was having a heart attack. My world was ending. I thought I did something wrong. I remember calling my best friend while hysterically crying. She knew how much this therapist made an impact on me. She was just as shocked and confused as I was.

I had leftover liquid codeine from when I had bronchitis. I took the rest of the bottle because I wanted to sleep to avoid the pain I was feeling. The pain could kill me, but I wasn’t using the codeine to harm myself. I didn’t have that much of it to end my life. I just wanted to stop feeling what I was feeling for a little while. I woke up feeling numb.

Even though I was so hurt, I felt badly for this therapist and whatever I had done to her. You see, I did not see this as only a betrayal; I saw this as me ruining the best thing that has happened to me. I wanted so badly to apologize to her. I think I recall sitting on my dorm floor whispering to whoever or whatever could be hearing me, to make sure she was OK. I figured for someone to do that, she must be really struggling. I look back now, and I can’t believe it. I cared more about her than I did myself. I wish my anger turned outward then, not inward towards myself. I know now I did not deserve it.

---

I finally found someone good.

I have been working with my psychiatrist for a little over 4 years now. When I found her, I was desperately seeking someone to help me to get off a slew of medications I was given in the psychiatric hospital. She prescribes, but she also does therapy. When I started working with her, I told myself I would not become attached. I went in with the purpose of detaching from her completely. I was going to be upfront about why I was there, share as much as possible, but also keep my wall up. I did not want to get hurt again. It took a long while, but eventually after developing rapport I told her about my previous therapist. I was so ashamed when talking about it, fearing she would also see me differently. She surprised me when I saw her become baffled, and that it wasn’t at me. She validated me, and confirmed that the things this therapist said and did were wildly unethical. This was about her, and not about me. I needed to hear that. Still, the fear was there with my psychiatrist. I would not do anything wrong in fear of her leaving .

When I reached 2 years of working with her, I panicked. I had never worked with a therapist longer than 2 years and I was afraid an ending was coming. We had a lot of conversations about my fear of her firing me. I needed a lot of reassurance. She said, “How about I make you a promise that in the unlikely situation that would be decision I would make, I would bring it up with you first. Not just make it unilaterally without any warning or discussion.” I agreed.

One day during our session she had to take a phone call from someone who continued to call her. She said, “I’m sorry I have to take this, it’s their first day of camp.” I heard her say, “This is ___ and ____’s mom.” I remember thinking, cool she’s a mom. Later on however, this made me very sad. I could not truly understand my emotions. Was I jealous of her children for having her as a mom? Was I sad because I had a perception of what her life was like compared to my own? It took me months before I told her about this. I cried the whole time. I knew I wasn’t supposed to know about her life, but it wasn’t my fault she answered her call in front of me. I didn’t know what she would say. I wondered if she was regretting that accidental self-disclosure. Luckily, it was a helpful conversation. She did not make me feel weird about anything.

I was insecure about attachment, but through her I learned that attachment can be a good thing. In relation to my trauma, I remember her saying, “It is a sign of resilience, because people who did not get their early needs met, don’t even see in people the potential of being in a relationship with them in any way.” I remember saying, Really?” “Haley, the fact that you can still connect and empathize- that’s strength.”

We talked about how what I want is not necessarily her in my life in a more personal way, but I want what she represents, what she has been to me, and who she is in this (therapeutic) relationship. The fact that these feelings came up with her, show that we are doing the right work together. I never knew that having the hard conversations about your therapist, with your therapist, could actually help them to help you. I still struggle at times. I get very overwhelmed and sad when our sessions end. I know I will see her again, but I still cry when I have to leave. We use the last 10-15 minutes to talk about something light, and to help me feel secure before I leave her office. We have made huge strides together. She reminds me that we are a team. I’m so grateful to have found a great, trauma-informed therapist, who I trust and have built great rapport with. I don’t know how long our work will last, but she has assured me it can last as long as I want and need it to. I have made much progress with her. Despite these past 4 years, I know I still have a lot more work to do in therapy.

Therapy is practicing. It is practicing someone supporting you and being able to accept that support. It is practicing what a healthy relationship looks like, so that when you go into your own life, those will be the relationships you’ll be able to build.

Choosing to begin therapy can take tremendous courage. Taking a chance on a therapist and hoping they don’t hurt you, is scary. I have worked with many different people, as I have moved and experienced many changes in my life. I know that if one therapist doesn’t work, it doesn’t mean none of them will. Therapy is a privilege that not everyone can access. I am very aware of this. As someone who has healed more and more since beginning therapy, I am grateful for it. I am grateful for having that space to be supported, and work solely on myself.

Still, whether it is a therapist or someone else, I will always wish that the good people will stick around.

8 years ago..the age I started therapy

I was not planning on writing about this because it felt too hard. Today was hard. I wasn’t going to write about it while in this headspace because I’m likely going to cry. I changed my mind, realizing this is probably the best time to write. It is important I truly feel my feelings in order to release them.

I grew up associating the holidays with being pulled in numerous directions. Both of my parents had divorced parents so I have step-grandparents as well. If we spent a holiday with one side of the family, I would feel guilt for not seeing the others. I grew up with 2 Thanksgivings, and 3 Christmas gatherings (not including waking up at my own home on Christmas morning). I have 2 specific Thanksgiving memories. At my Grammy and Grandpa Carl’s house we would go off-roading. I would climb in the bed of a truck with my cousins and laugh as we slid with each bump and turn, branches nearly wiping us out. Every year I look forward to my family’s sweet potato casserole, and pumpkin cheesecake. Thanksgiving at my Nana and Papa’s house we would walk down to Papa’s brook, across a bridge, and light a tree for the holiday season. Each year it was a different grandchild’s turn to flip the switch and light the tree. We would sing carols (horribly) and there was always laughter.

So many things changed. Papa died in 2015, and we stopped having Thanksgiving with that side of the family as their family grew as well. Thanksgiving was still my favorite holiday, but I still associated holidays with obligation, and pleasing everyone else. Growing up, I did not know why holidays overwhelmed me so much. I remember being young and crying at a Christmas gathering and did not know why I was feeling so sad. I was overwhelmed with the amount of people and all of the talking, even though I knew everyone in the room. Holidays were not always easy, but they certainly got harder.

Two of my family members I do not speak to. One, I don’t expect to face ever again. The other isn’t so far away. I have panic attacks each year as holidays approach because as much as I do not want to go to our gatherings, I feel guilt disappointing the family I do want to see. I have learned that holidays should not feel like something I should white-knuckle. Holidays should be a time that feels cozy, safe, and full of love. I have been better about setting boundaries each year, and my family has been better at accepting that I may be at some gatherings and may not. I may leave early or I may only stop by. Once I continued to set boundaries, people stopped expecting. Each year, however, I hear some form of disapproval. This year for Thanksgiving I wanted to try to show up because it is a time to see my cousins. There is one family member I do not want to see, and seeing this person makes me feel unsafe and uncomfortable. I thought I could go and just avoid this person, but I know that even being in the same space as them would be unhealthy for me. It is always a red flag when I am crying and panicking about a holiday weeks before it even arrives. My nightmares get worse, I dissociate, my arthritis gets worse, my pelvic pain returns, and I can hardly eat. It is not about being stubborn. Nobody understands.

Today I told my mom I won’t be at Thanksgiving. She cried. I don’t do this to hurt her. I don’t know how to protect myself without hurting her. She has a right to be sad about the situation, but it does not make it OK to make me feel badly for it. I heard, “For years we have heard you say that you are just going to do what you want to do, and here we just go along with it.” Like, yes that is what boundaries are. I have been called selfish many times, and even though she did not say those words, she basically was. I am tired of hearing this story about how my Papa used to say “Roots are important. Stick to your roots.” I am not going to stay in my hometown because my family is. I am not going to maintain relationships with family who make me feel unsafe. I don’t believe in “but they are family.” Family should feel like a safe space. Family should build you up, not drain you. Family should not leave you preferring to be alone on a holiday instead of being around them.

I never wanted it to be this way. It was weird explaining to my girlfriend that I am indeed family-oriented. At first she didn’t see it that way because all she knew was how much I did not want to see my family. Now she understands that I am family-oriented with those I feel safe with. Safe to be me. My mom suggested I text this person and remind them that I still care and miss them. I wasn’t trying to sound like a bitch, but I took a breath and said, “But I don’t miss them”. I said that I was comfortable, I was happy, I was doing the right thing by not reaching out. Why does it have to be me? I used to try. They made no efforts in replying to me, and I stopped trying as well.

I also know that it is not fair to the rest of my family to witness the drama between me and this person on holidays. Everyone can sense the tension and it does affect others. I am an understanding person, I have empathy for what this person has been through. I don’t hate them, I just want to be able to trust that they are better.

I feel so grateful when I find someone who understands what it is like to have to cut a family member out of their life. I feel so alone because I know most of my family does not understand. I come from a family who often does things because they feel they have to, not because they want to. I don’t want to live my life that way, especially when it compromises my health. I did that for years, and I learned hard lessons from it.

I’m still stuck on seeing my mother cry today. I tried to hold my own, but I cried too. She told me that she hates the holidays, because she is sad about this situation year after year. She wants everyone to get along. It is not that simple. It has never been this way. I still wonder if it is truly about her missing me, or more about the fact that I said, “no.” I wish that my decision to cut contact with this person, did not make her take it on as well. All I want is acceptance. I want my family to accept that yes this may suck, but this is how it is. I don’t want others to keep waiting for things to change, for us to start talking again. If it happens, it will happen in time. For now, I don’t see it happening, nor want it to happen. I want the holidays to go on for everyone else, as I do what I need to do for me.

I have never truly been close to this person. I have never felt accepted or understood. I have felt their discomfort around my relationship, and seen them avoid me when Aly is around. I have too many memories of fear or hurt by them. I don’t trust them, and I don’t trust they have changed. It is scary for me to wonder if I will be greeted with small-talk and respect (which is weirdly equally uncomfortable/ingenuine) or risk experiencing that pain again if I open that door.

I have to choose the lesser of two evils. After making this decision, I know that the holiday will still be hard. I know I will experience grief, and frustration, and sadness. I know a mix of emotions will come up on that day, as it does every holiday season. I also know that I would prefer those hard feelings, than to experience dread and panic while pushing myself to go. It is not worth being hypervigilant, trying my best to keep distance from someone I may not be able to get distance from. I would rather feel what I feel right now, sadness and some tears, but a deep knowing that I am doing the right thing. I can feel grief, and loneliness, and also trust that my body is thanking me for listening to its signals. I will hope that now that I made this confirming decision, my body and mind will begin to feel peace again.

When there are broken pieces in a family, it is helpful to find a chosen family. I am grateful that I have Aly, and her family who welcomes me with open arms. I am grateful that when I feel alone, I have other people to turn to. Aly is home to me, and her support means the world to me. I can grieve the fact that my family did not turn out to be what I imagined it to be as a child. While getting older, I can see that instead of waiting for things or people to change, it is best to work with what you have in this moment.

I can’t continue to fear others seeing me as selfish. It isn’t true, and I’ve never been a selfish person. If doing what is best for me means selfish, then sure, okay, I’ll be selfish. I think of everyone’s feelings before my own, but that won’t continue to help me live this life. I can create space from people without wishing them harm. It may feel safer for others to blame me than to accept that things are out of their control. I have to keep choosing myself again and again. I know that in the end, the right people will choose me too. The right people will cheer me on for having the courage to take care of me for once.

thanksgiving 2021

I don’t want to hate the holidays. I don’t want to keep trying to find ways to cope better in my family traditions. I’d like to create my own traditions that feel right for me. It will be uncomfortable to step into those changes, but I know a lot of my healing has come from even small uncomfortable steps in a different direction from what I have known.