Have you ever been told by a therapist that they cannot help you?

Have you ever been told by a therapist that they cannot help you?
Have you grieved the loss of a parent that is still alive?
Even Things Lost Were Once Gifts
My mind skips around like an old recorder
Scratches at each jump between
Times when I think I’ve settled on an answer
For what might seem a simple question
If it weren’t loaded
If I sleep with this keepsake tonight
Will holding it close to my chest
End up breaking it apart more later
Just like our first to last of five months in this home
Except boxes are, already, packed to leave
And one of two of us already left completely
I’m not sure what happpened to the you I got to see one last time
It was just four or five hours
But you were “back”,
You were “alive”
And you were kind
And I had missed you so
But that’s not why the tears streamed down my face
It was bc I knew the you that you’d replace
Would be the you that killed who you really were
And all we could have been
We wanted so much more
Than “could have beens”
I’m sorry I had to make the call
When just days before, you had kissed my face
But the Black Eyes returned within only days
And just like that,
The man I loved was replaced
With a punishing parent
From a patterned past
Don’t you know there’s a reason
Only Jesus should attempt to raise the dead
Black Eyes moved toward
And swiftly fell upon me
3 digits and a screen had to intervene
But they could only save me
And that night I felt the loss of death
There was nothing left in your eyes
May Jesus raise you up like Lazarus
May the One who is outside the bounds of
Space and Time and Death
Reunite us again
When we are ready
Starting therapy
I decided to start therapy again for my anxiety and depression and my recent grief over my father. I'm a little nervous over it. I'm afraid I'm going to sabotage myself and not go. #Therapy
#ChronicAnxiety
#ChronicDepression
#Grief #Loss
Run
My Poem
*possibly triggering? #Depression #ChronicFatigue #ChronicDepression #Sadness #Loss #medicatioReisitantDepression
I want to run
To run away from the pain
To run away from the guilt
To run away from myself.
I want to run
To a place in my mind
To a place that is safe
To a place that is whole
I want to run
To some one who cares
To someone who knows
To someone to love
I want to run
And never look back
And never have doubts
And never give up
I want to run
To a me that is whole
To a me that is brave
To a me that is real
I want to run
From this brain that is broke
From this body I hate
From this heart that won't heal.
I want to run
To a place I don't know
To a world that's true
To a peace unknown
I want to run.
~Heidi
The first time I checked the box next to “widowed” under the “relationship status” section of a form, I paused, pen tip hovering above the sheet of paper. I was about to check “married” as I usually do, but reality reared its head once again. I thumbed my wedding ring, lost in thought. I continue to wear my wedding ring because taking it off would feel like a betrayal to my husband — a declaration of the end of my marriage. It would mean closing an important chapter in my life to make way for a new chapter — and I’m not ready for that. My husband passed away several months ago, and the dense fog of mourning and intense sorrow is just starting to lift. Although I am reminded of him many times a day, I am learning to navigate my life without his solid and comforting presence. I am often lonely and at a loss of what to do with myself, particularly during the times when we would usually be doing something together. But I’m finding new ways to occupy myself and to plan my days as a single individual. I suppose that technically, I am no longer married — but in my heart and mind, I still am. I didn’t choose this, and neither did my husband. Our marriage did not end on the day he passed away. We did not decide to separate from one another. I loved my husband and was faithfully committed to him — regardless of what was thrown in our path. His death doesn’t automatically change those feelings. With a wince, I placed a check next to “widowed” and moved to the next question on the form. For me, the term “widow” conjures up images of lonely old women living solitary lives, playing bingo and eating TV dinners while watching reruns. Film and television depicts middle-aged widows as bitter and sorrowful women who are too young to go through the rest of their lives alone — yet too old for the chance to find love again. Widowed young men are depicted as angry, heavily drinking wrecks with death wishes. Older widowed men are portrayed as anchorless souls in desperate need of new partners to make their lives worth living again. I am not keen to join this Lonely Hearts Club that society views as tragic and pitiful. And yet, I am grateful there is a term that encompasses the current state of my life — with no further explanation required. The word “widowed” explains why I still consider myself married even though my partner is gone, why I still wear my wedding ring even though my husband’s is tucked away in a drawer, and why I’m not interested in seeking romance even though I’m no longer legally committed to someone. Using the term “widowed” often garners empathy and compassion — rather than the potential judgment or legal probing that the terms “divorced” or “separated” may elicit. I do not have to sit through “plenty of fish in the sea” pep talks or offers to set me up with “this great guy I know.” Perhaps most importantly, “widowed” usually staves off the pressure to explain or discuss the tangled, varied thoughts and feelings I’m experiencing during this painful, lonely time in my life. Upon hearing that I’m widowed, most people just seem to “get it” on an instinctually empathetic level. I uttered the words “’til death do we part” 15 years ago — not knowing that day would come much sooner than expected and not truly understanding that the death of a spouse does not necessarily mean the end of a marriage. The loss of my husband has legally changed my relationship status and has brought many changes in other areas of my life, but it hasn’t changed how I think and feel about my relationship with my husband. Only time will change that. Letting go is a process that varies from person to person, and it has no time limit. So with gentleness towards myself, I will take all the time I need to grieve. In the meantime, I am trying to embrace the word “widow” not as a permanently sad and lonely identity but instead as a descriptor of a momentary chapter in my life.
What do you do for self-care to prepare for a difficult day?
Grieving a friend twice
I was told (via text) a friend, Chris, had passed and that it was by his own hands. 10 hours later, I was told that former statement was REVISED and that he had been sick and was taken off life support. This info was not only shared with myself but other friends and acquaintances. Later, it turns out that Chris was alive but in ICU. I did get family confirmation this time. His memorial services are tomorrow. I’m grieving my friend twice. And it’s been such a hellish rollercoaster. I’m at a loss and a standstill. #suicidalideations #Grief #Loss #Trauma #Depression #help
I hate Cancer!!!!!!
My sister is dying from cancer. It has progressed to the point the the hospital sent her home with hospice to die comfortably in her home. I'm anger and sad and scared. How do I do this life without my big sister? 💔 who will listen when I am down and make no sense? Who will advise me and tell me its going to be okay? She is too young to die she is only 59.Her older years have been stolen from her. I'm unbelievably broken hearted! I don't want her to go yet I had to give her my permission 😫 and tell her not to worry about me. She told me so calmly over the phone that she wasn't going to get any better and wouldn't be talking to my again. What choice did I have but to tell her it was okay. #Cancer #Depression #Loss #LiverCancer TerminalCancer
Will today be a good day?