(((((((Echo)))))))
It will move through, as all energy does. Believe in this (because you already know it). With time and the healing you are doing, it will not overwhelm you like this. Wrap your arms around yourself and imagine all of us here who love you, and all the people in your 3D life who love you surrounding you with safety and comfort and cherishing.
It is just hard to work out what is the point of a life with so much pain in it.
The deep you is much stronger than the part of you that's telling you this now. Embrace this hurt part of you with compassion and remind it that you ARE healing, but it takes time and, like burns and other awful wounds, the healing is excruciating sometimes. It hurts, and it's life, and it's yours, and you are strong enough to make it your own. You deserve to make life yours, to make your own choices and be safe and proud in who you are. That was robbed from you a long time ago and you've been suffering ever since. It isn't fair and it's miserable, but you are doing now EXACTLY what you're supposed to be doing...digging down to your core self and trying to heal all your wounded parts at the same time.
I don't feel safe inside my body, inside my flat (though I am physically safe here) or in my life. It is a week until I see my therapist again and I am not doing very well. I don't know how to get help or who could help me. I feel I may have to just let this out, but I don't know if I will survive it. It is too horrible to tell my friends, somehow too personal to share (I worried even about sharing it here anonymously, but the energy is rising so hard inside me, right up to my throat, that I will burst, my heart will burst, if there is no relief).
(((Echo)))
I need to cry and cry and cry. But I can't let go. Small triggers, like a YouTube recording someone sent me of a flashmob in an Odessa fishmarket, with an orchestra and choir massing to perform the 'Ode to Joy' have me howling and sobbing uncontrollably, and then I stop abruptly, tell myself what an idiot I am being, and it is all rammed shut inside me again. I am not safe to break down, to let this tidal wave of grief and pain out. I can't see the way forward.
This happens to me...actually happened with a flashmob YouTube video about a month ago...probably the same one because it was Ode to Joy. I sobbed for about 30 seconds then felt so ridiculous I just shut right down. Sometimes I think that fear that our grief and will overwhelm us may be worse than the grief and pain itself. I don't know, because I shut mine out in the same way. But I sense that this is the case, because in those small and seemingly ridiculous moments when my sobs actually come (usually with music), I feel a little release before the terror washes over me again.
Even if your therapist likes to see you face-to-face because of the body stuff (mine is the same), does she offer the opportunity to call? If so, you should. Reaching out for support is an important part of healing, and--given your current energies--critical.
I'm not sure how much of this I will find possible to tell my therapist, lovely woman though she is, but I guess I will have to try.
Yes, you will have to try. It is so important that your therapist know what is cycling through your mind and body between sessions.
I understand how hard it is. I think
@Ryn's suggestion to share the post is a good one. I do this regularly now with my therapist. He is similar to yours...he doesn't want "reporting" of feeling, he wants to talk in ways that are actually feeling, which is really hard but good. The problem is, then, that there is never enough time to let him know what is going on outside of sessions (because there is so much and it is so different all the time). So, I've taken to sharing written things with him. Sometimes he reads (or has me read) pieces if they are short (LOL, that's only been twice), otherwise he reads them in between sessions. I think he was surprised when I started doing this, but he told me a couple of weeks ago when I asked him about it that it was very helpful to him, and he has referred back to some of this during our work. It is the only way I can manage to tell him about some things...sometimes because I am too ashamed to put words to it, face-to-face, and sometimes because I have to actually draw pictures of the feelings I'm trying to explain because there are no words. Only metaphors.
I am sending you soothing and loving energy.
