Tomorrow I have a second appointment with an EMDR therapist.
I feel sick. I feel angry. I feel scared. I feel like I’m going to die. I feel a spark of humour at that last statement. Because I know I’m not really going to die tomorrow, it just feels 100% like I’m going to.
I think the main feeling I’m feeling is fear. Fear that she is too much of a trigger. Fear that I will collapse and crumble like I did for the last week. Fear that I’m amping myself up to deal with it and it won’t be any good. Fear she’ll be really hopeless. Fear of disappointment and let down. Fear of this triggering a loss of hope and a spiral downwards, as it so easily has done before. I fear I’ll feel like I can’t see her anymore. I fear that she will spark too much aggression and hate, transferred from my ma to her. I fear this will make me lose control and I’ll be outrageously rude and pretentious and stroppy and hard work. She is like I’m staring at my mother and that freaks the crap out of me. Yet I have only met her once, how the hell do I feel such a tonne of emotions! I think that’s what scares me too. I’ve never had such speedy overwhelming intense feelings about someone. And it makes me really not like the woman! I don’t wanna to at all…but yet I do. I really do. I just really don’t like her. But in a sense, that’s quite helpful I would have thought because it means that I will drop aside worries of what she might think. But I do fear that I am not feeling like I want to be open and vulnerable with her. For me it has always been SO important that I like the person, and it still is. But perhaps for EMDR and these more technique based therapies, it can not be such a dominant feature of importance.
I feel so so alone in it. I feel tongue tied and tongue twisted that I can’t explain quite how the trigger of my ma effects me. But maybe this feeling is part of what needs to be felt because maybe it’s what I’ve felt for years with my ma but just never been allowed to feel it is safe. I remember always feeling like my words would never come out right because anything I ever did say was the wrong thing anyway. Maybe I’m just revisiting these old feelings, as sometimes you do when you’re on the brink of something in your transition.
Tonight I went for a skate to burn off the fear and adrenaline and anger that was racing around my bones. Man it felt good. I’m only slowly getting to trust that it’s okay to exercise again and get it out. Having chronic fatigue you learn that exercise does the opposite to you that it does to others – it makes you feel so much more tired and unwell, in particular the following day. But now, as my trauma has surfaced and is running riot, I’m learning that exercise can be my saviour – that trust will come as I love even more, that embodied feeling and empowerment of using my body with the beans that it should be used in.
In terms of tomorrow, I’m terrified. But with terror comes relief somewhere in there. And I won’t know until I try, so all these predictions of the future I’m trying to make are better off hopping on a jet plane out of here.
This will be okay, won’t it?