Tonight I found this which is really rather apt: I have felt the need to find out how to heal myself and go on living...
Last week I went back to CBT: long overdue perhaps but it was time to reach out for help.
You see, the little voice inside my head was back, crying out in repeat:
"i can't do this, i can't do this, i can't do this"
Whatever "this" was I realised that I could not do "it" alone and in isolation (even with the support of D, my family and friends). The previous week had been proof of this; so many tears had fallen and, deep down I knew what I had to do; it was time to reach out and grasp my life.
(what is "this"? I'm not very sure if I really know... living? living with heartbreak? living with a disabled child? and, if i'm honest, i still don't know that "this" is... anything? everything?)
In theory I know, and am doing, everything that I should be - well, I am kind of! - but I need a little more help. I need help to move forward; help to carry on living.
So... back to CBT - an act of kindness to myself - to carry on living (with some help) because I know that I cannot hide behind Eilidh anymore. I cannot put my life on hold and not grab it wholeheartedly. I don't think that Eilidh would ever forgive me - nor, for that matter, would I - if, in years to come I suddenly wonder where my life has gone.
Going back was easier than I expected. I have come to realise that it's not "failure" to be back "in therapy". I see it more as me having some "me-time" to embrace my humanity & frailty, to explore my feelings and attitude, to grab my life with both hands, to live wholeheartedly and to experience the beautiful things in day-to-day life because I know that they are there waiting for me to find them...
So this is me, grabbing life;
I promise to tell you what it's like...