Still, after all of these weeks and months, I struggle in the area of grief missing my counselor in my life due to her medical leave of absence. After four years of almost weekly or bi-weekly sessions, my routine has been distrupted. Today, being Monday, I am still caught in the mix of missing my set appointment this afternoon and our fifty minutes or sometimes more of discussion. I miss talking to her.
While seeing another counselor about my counselor and the abandonment felt, I know he is only temporary and I can deal with that. The connection is not there although he is a joy to talk to. The last session with him, we discussed the availability I have to contact her of which I do but I am always so hesitant. I get so close to writing and then I delete my message, each and every time. Today included.
There is a risk of being hurt. Not that she would be rude to me because I was told to keep her informed but my normal excuse is not to bother her. Typical of childhood emotional neglect from what I have read. I never want to bother anybody. Even my temporary counselor, he gave me his private cell number but I told him that I will hold onto but will never use it and bother him. I won’t.
It’s one of those moments of thinking and doing. If I write, it shows I care and will brighten her day perhaps or if I write, it may be a bother and not be good. Right or wrong thought pattern, I don’t know, as I go back and forth. Who doesn’t like to know they are being thought of, right? It comes down to fear, yet again in me.
Sometimes, I think about letting her know of my blog and she can read for herself of my walk through this torment of loneliness, attachment issues and abandonment felt. I have no doubt that she knows I am dealing with all of this as she is a pretty smart cookie. She knew me better than I knew myself in all of these years together, which is somewhat scary in itself. Still, I hope that progress would be visible in my writing. Hey, I haven’t cried today yet thinking about things or writing this. Some days, that is a huge accomplishment, especially in the beginning. Still, tears will fall. A part of my life is gone. Will it return and will it ever be the same? Probably not.
Taking the risk always causes me to freeze in fear so my conclusion and questions within is always, am I right to write or not and can I handle the outcome? Today, I still don’t know so I will continue on, as is.