Today I’m grateful that…

Asked Cubu if he felt distant and said “Somewhat, yes.” His answer for every time I’ve ever asked that has always been “no”, so a “somewhat” really makes me worry. The distance has always been in my head alone, not his. But I’m so tired and disconnected with myself, I don’t know how to go about fixing it and if I did, I wouldn’t have the energy to. 

I didn’t have to go through more than I did. Most members of the meetings seem to have had a more prolonged/more overt abuse than mine, with perpetrators who are still alive and in their lives. I take heart in this because maybe it means I can heal faster than the average time. Which I know is the wrong way to look at it but I’m just so tired and I’ve just begun.

I seem to have let my meditation practice slide all week. I’ve gotten one 5 minute session in each day but that’s not enough to do more than just regulate my body for a bit. It’s just so scary to think of connecting with myself, I never know what I’m going to find. And meditation, which used to bring me such peace, has become something I struggle not to avoid. 

I can’t seem to get a hold on energy expenditure. I just keep running past empty every day and there must be a way to manage my time/activities that doesn’t make me catatonic by 7pm. 

Cubu’s parents have strong-armed us with love into having dinner with them this week. Cubu is always avoiding them but we would see them because I felt obligated. Since starting this work, I haven’t had the energy to plan/respond/even think about dealing with them, so we have gotten away with neglecting them for months. They’re very Christian. Cubu grew up Christian, isn’t anymore, but they think he still is. And they know I’m not. Recently they’ve begun evangelizing us and I think if they give me a godly/conversion spiel during dinner I’m going to say something I regret. 

I have “foster parents” from out of town driving down to see us on Thursday and I’m so tired, I can’t imagine entertaining for 3 days. And I miss them so much, I hate that I’m dreading them coming down, I was so excited when we had planned it in December. And I can’t tell them about what I’m going through. Or I could. But it will take a lot of courage. I guess I should tell them. Maybe that’s what makes it hard. 

I feel like a failure. I feel like I’ve been in constant crisis for a couple years (my mom is threatening to sue me, Ludvig dies, I start having CSA memories). I just feel like a mess all the time. My life looks put together on the outside. I have two jobs that I adore, a wonderful partner, a rich social life, a house that feels safe and people come over to, a bunch of healthy hobbies. But inside I feel like I’m falling apart and picking myself back up nearly every other day. And I know this is just what the work feels like. In a year, I’ll look back at this and be in a much better place but right now, as always, that doesn’t help me much. 

I’m having a bit of a struggle bus kind of day. I feel like a kid who needed a nap like 3 hours ago and is now just cries at everything.