The day my eyes began to speak

duelo

Sitting outside of Victim Support I am too scared to go inside. I know what is coming. I know my support worker is going to tell me she doesn’t want to see me anymore.

When I say I know, I actually mean I think and I have convinced myself that I am right no matter what anybody else says.

My BPD makes it this way. Due to my mothers neglect, I have never been nurtured. I have never been shown how to cope with different emotions. I have never been shown boundaries or taught how to manage relationships effectively. This has created huge trust issues within me and has meant that I have developed an attachment disorder.

This means that it takes me a really long time to trust someone but that once I do, I latch on to them and I give them my heart and soul. I beg them to care about me. Make them promise not to leave me. To never abandon me.

Abandonment. Another huge fear created by my mother. Her abandonment has led me to believe that anyone I trust will eventually leave me. This leads to a vicious cycle. I begin to trust someone, pull them in, but then I feel too close, too vulnerable, so I push them away.

This is what happened with my support worker. I don’t mean to but I have done it so many times since we have been working together. I know it takes its toll on her and I feel so guilty. Now I am convinced that she is going to tell me that she is leaving me. That I am bad and that she doesn’t want to help me anymore.

As I sit outside I feel sick, my tummy is in knots. I cannot even bring myself to message her and let her know I’m here. Just as I think that I could just get up and leave, another member of Victim Support passes me and tells me that she will let my support worker know that I am here. I genuinely think I may throw up.

My support worker comes to get me. I am scared. I hesitate as we go to our usual meeting room. She has made me tea as always but I feel too nauseous to drink it.

I cannot even look her in the eye. I sit with my hair pulled in front of my face, wishing the ground would swallow me up. I feel like I have let them down here. I am so embarrassed.

We talk a little and then the conversation leads to what I have been dreading. She wants to stop seeing me every week.

She has spoken to Rape Crisis – I was recently placed under their care and have started therapy with them – and they have advised her to take a step back so that they can work closer with me and get me to open up to them. They think this is for the best.

“They hardly know me!!” I shout.

Bam! Emotion hits me in a way I cannot put into words properly. Before I know it I am completely breaking down. Tears flow, running down my cheeks. I am sobbing so much I can barely take a breath.

I haven’t cried in over twenty years and now here I am sobbing my heart out. I cannot control it.

So many thoughts are running through my head; she is leaving me, she is mad at me, she is giving up on me, I messed up, I pushed her away, she hates me, I’ve let her down, I’ve let them all down.

The one thing I didn’t ever want to do is let her down, for she has always believed in me.

I am still sobbing as she tries to comfort me. Without thinking I push myself away from her. I cannot help the anger I feel. She is leaving me. I begin scratching at my hands and my arms, opening up the wounds already there.

I am a mess now. Makeup runs down my face. The tears won’t stop. Why won’t they stop? All logic and reason have gone out the window. She is abandoning me.

Slowly, through my tears and sobbing, I can hear her explaining the decision. I know deep down it is the right decision for Rape Crisis to control my care, for they are specialised. However it still hurts. I am still scared. I trust her. I need her.

Deep down inside I know this isn’t her fault so I try to reign in the anger and hurt I feel. I know she cares for me and wants what is best for me. I know she wants to see me through this and see me thrive. However it doesn’t take away the fear of her leaving me when I know I trust her. I am so muddled up and this hurts so bad that I cannot speak.

Then she utters words I wasn’t expecting; “I’m not leaving you”. I fight her on this. I push back and tell her she is leaving me. But she knows me well and pushes back; “I am not giving up on you”.

She explains that we will still meet, just not every week. We can still meet for coffee or for a walk maybe once a month or something.

My sobbing begins to ease as she explains that she can still support me and that she still cares.

Against all I am feeling right now I begin to believe her. Maybe she does care. Maybe I am not losing her completely. I know in this moment that I have to be brave.

I know she cares and I know that broaching this conversation with me will have filled her with dread. She knows my abandonment issues and she knew I would react badly. Yet she cared enough to do it anyway.

Crying was a shock to us both.

Eventually, still with tears in my eyes, I let her hug me. Once more I try to hold it in but I can’t. I begin to sob again.

My chest hurts. It physically hurts. A pain so sharp I can hardly breathe. I try to speak but a whisper comes out. Tears continue to fall. Crying now the only way I can speak because my mouth cannot.

In that moment, as she hugs me, I am begging myself to stop crying and to be strong so that I can at least leave with dignity.

I have to be brave. I have to take this next step in this god awful journey, no matter how hard it is or how scared I am. Except now it is different. Now I have cried. Now I have opened that door when I least expected it.

Crying is like breathing. The more you hold in, the more you let out. I cried not because I am weak but because I have been strong for too long and today was just too much to handle. Today reminded me of how scared I felt as a little girl.

Today was the first time I have cried in twenty years.

Today was the day my eyes began to speak.

And I am terrified of what they have to say.

Thanks for reading

**Image courtesy of Google Images**

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