Posts Tagged ‘heartache’

I think they expect me to fail. I think they yearn for it. If I fail and if they don’t respond to my needs, then maybe I won’t reach out to them. Those twisted people, the ones who are supposed to help, yet stray away at the first signal of need. They call themselves help. Really they’re just in it for the blasted money.

Sometimes I think I did something so awful in a past life, I must’ve been worse than Hitler to be so undeserving and not worthy of love or affection or happiness in this life. I must suffer along knowing that my pain seems endless, trying is at a point futile. I just want to be happy and help others, why must road blocks constantly develop?

Why can’t the pieces of the universe align for more than short periods of time? Why am I alive and constantly being teased, good things dangling in my path for a mere moment and suddenly ripped away. It hurts. Life hurts.


No one’s problem, everyone’s burden. That’s me. No I’m not having a pity party, more of a realization overload. And I’m feeling hurt, very, very hurt.

Ever split the word therapist up? I have, many times. There are a lot of ways to break it apart, to me the more intriguing is, “the rapist”.  And that about sums up what I feel right now. Exposed, violated, obliterated, kamikaze, sneak attack.

Let’s rewind to a few months ago, late December. Recently discharged from the hospital, I went back to live at the sober living I was living at during my school break. A new person arrived at the house a few days later. I’ll call her “B”. I didn’t make anything of it as B kept to herself most of the time. We began talking one morning, and she asked me what I was doing that afternoon, and was wondering if I could give her a ride to her therapy appointment that afternoon at 2. I said I could but that I’d have to drop her off early since I also had a therapy appointment that day, at 3. She asked me where I was going for my appointment and it turned out we were going to the same town. Then she asked me what therapist I see and lo and behold, we had the same therapist. I’ll call her “K”. This was a shocker to me, big time, but it’s the first thing B and I connected with. We both adored K, and upon arriving at K’s office that afternoon, K was entirely confused to see that we both knew one another and said that it was good that I was only at the sober living house temporarily or else that would create a conflict of interest for her… totally understandable.

B and I became really close, really quickly. We both had a lot of issues thrown into our lives, and reacted to these issues very similarly. B was the first person who actually showed me through her actions that a positive life is possible, even after going through tons of shit. B and I spoke fondly of K, and one time we both agreed that we wished K could be our friend, outside of being our therapist since her demeanor was absolutely awesome and she’d be a chill friend to have. We both met K as outpatients in a partial hospitalization program (at different times). K began individual therapy in conjunction to the group work last October. B and I talked often on the phone after I left the sober living about one week after we met. We saw each other quite a bit still, and then the visits began dwindling down, namely because of my hectic school schedule. We were in and out of touch for weeks, not due to anything in particular. I saw B on Sunday after a session with K. She had an appointment with K as well. She and I barely talked, it felt awkward.

I had just come out of a rough session with K. Ever since my decline about one and a half weeks ago, stemming from sleep deprivation, I’ve been in a funk. I cried the entire last ten minutes of my session, non-stop, saying I needed support and I had none, because I can’t continually give it to myself, it’s draining, it’s entirely too difficult. K wasn’t terribly empathetic or sympathetic and just kind of shrugged it off like, “you’re in that place again”.  I tried to explain to her how dark and depressing it was, she just didn’t get it. We talked about how I haven’t pursued jobs actively since being let go over the summer and how traumatic of an experience that was.  I even e-mailed her afterwards saying I didn’t understand how it was unusual to want support, to need support, and knowing that I can’t get it in the expected places, how was I ever to heal without strong support? I got an odd reply. I replied back with another question and have yet to hear back from her. I don’t want to hear back from her. I don’t want to hear back from a two-faced person, a hypocrite. Here comes the main story:

B has also been in a funk, and declining rapidly. She’s barely eating the equivalent of one snack per day. I didn’t know this until Sunday. I decided I valued our friendship so much that I’d skip out on one class today, one that I enjoy and one that overlaps with an Eating Disorders Anonymous group I’d begun attending over the break. So while we were mulling over what to do with this afternoon, after I had driven over an hour and affording gas that I really can’t budget in without selling more items (I’ve over 100 up for sale on Amazon), B’s phone started ringing. It was K, and she was asking B for directions to her house. This was unusual, my jealously started creeping in. K had no clue that I’d driven out to see B and attend the meeting. We thought that K was coming to convince B to go to the meeting. K and B met in the garage, nothing unusual about that as there are couches and other furniture there and it’s a relatively private place.

B swore the meeting wouldn’t be long because she wasn’t going to be convinced into recovery essentially. I didn’t believe her because K is one of the only people who B confides everything in, and K is pretty good at relating. So when B came in a few minutes later, I was a bit surprised. My surprise rose more when B said, “You won’t believe what happened; K got fired” (from the group therapist position).

That’s when it came to my attention that B and K have two relationships; a professional and therapeutic (very skewed, many mixed messages, tons of jealously rushing through my veins). I told B after some other discussion, “Well I guess you got your wish”. And now I keep wondering… where’s my wish? Where’s my support? Why doesn’t K want to hang out with me, confide in me? I hate the secrets, the suddenness of this all, the double lives they both seem to lead. And I hate that now my support has dwindled to 0. I lost faith in my advisor a few weeks ago, after I tried to go to her for emotional support, and she told me I was a grown up and could deal with the presenting issue at the time my own. But hey it was ok, because I still had K. I still had K and I kind of still had B, somewhere in the back of my mind.

This is such a twisted situation because the two people I’d usually confide in about this are the two involved in the overall situation. I had practically begged to K for support and she wouldn’t give it to me as I needed. She hugs B when B needs a hug as I’ve witnessed.I crave positive human affection and attention and the safest person to give that to me (K), has given me a hug once. Found out also today that K calls B daily to check up on her. Where’s my support, where’s my check up? I need it, I need that support sooo badly. K knows that. I crave having a positive relationship with someone near my age. The three of us are all relatively close in age, five years separates me from K and two years. from B. Conflict of interest my ass! I’ll show you a conflict of interest, right here, right now. I want so badly to have a conversation with K about this whole situation and at the same time, our relationship would never be the same after, and for me, it already isn’t. I have no words to say to the one person I’m supposed to be able to say every detail of my life to. I’m done with her, and I’m devastated because of it.

Today, I’ve lost my sources of support, all of them, and even if not literally, I can’t look at K the same. There’s no equal treatment in her eyes and she’s playing favorites and not giving equal or professional treatment to her clients. B became her friend. Who am I? Scum on the bottom of someone’s shoe. Scum people’d rather chuck aside than deal with scraping off. My walls are tumbling down, I am exposed, I am vulnerable. Enduring the pain of losing the trust of someone who’s supposed to be a safe person, a reliable person, an overall honest person is too difficult to rationalize, conceptualize or emotionally handle. I don’t want to go through how much it hurts to lose faith in humanity all over again. I’m distraught over this, and contemplating the reason for all of this pain and heartache. I need to establish a connection with someone trustworthy, because at this moment, there’s no one and I don’t believe there will ever be another person to rekindle this flame with, therapeutic in nature or not.  And the walls came tumbling down.