fighting the familiar

Here we are, it’s Sunday, and the week break that I had is coming to an end.

Tomorrow I will move back towards the familiar schedule of Dr appointments, errands to be done, waking up with an agenda and a schedule to fill – but most of all, tomorrow is when I return back to therapy and see my therapist after a 9 day break – and I find myself fighting the familiar.

When I was a little girl, my mom would drop me off at Mrs. Bells house. Mrs Bell was a woman I loved and looked up to, but she was strict and had tough rules. I liked being there, but then I found myself waiting by the window for my mom to come pick me up, and sometimes it would be days until she came to get me.

The promises of “I will come get you tomorrow” led to more lies and more disappointments  I stood there by the window many times with tears wondering if my mom was going to “keep” her promise this time, or will it be another promise broken.

I am not sure why I spent a lot of time at Mrs Bells house, but I think I never truly allowed myself to enjoy being there because I was too focused on being rejected, or abandoned by a promise never kept.

I found myself waiting by the window not only at Mrs Bells house, but many places I was left while my mom was tending to other things obviously more important. The more I waited, the more walls I built against getting hurt.

The more I waited, the more I made those walls concrete, and the stronger I made them, the more I hid behind them for protection, which is now called the wall of dependency – dependency on SELF and no one else.

I had a good week off, but I found myself fighting the familiar and at times it was a hard struggle.

My therapist and I stay connected all week long. He sent me texts and we emailed each other, and he reminded me the importance of “leaning in and staying connect and how worth it I was”, and I held onto that, but not without getting behind those big Ole’ walls called “boundaries.

I found myself “missing” my therapist a little this week and I got angry with myself. I never allow myself to miss, or to allow myself to go to a place where I am vulnerable to emotions that were so abused to me as a child.

The more and more I waited at that window as a child, the more I convinced myself that “you don’t wait for anyone” “you don’t allow yourself to miss anyone because if you miss, you get hurt” and “don’t expect anything from anyone”. and that is where my fear of dependency comes from.

In my eyes, missing = dependent. Missing = needy. Missing = something being wrong or bad.

I told my therapist in a text that I found myself tearful because I missed his wisdom this week.. I missed the wisdom and the good conversations and talks we have, and he was in awe of that. He was in awe of my vulnerability in finally allowing myself to feel that emotion, because it means I am trusting it more.

AS I sat here thinking about my session Monday, I got scared for a moment. “Wait, I am not ready to go back, maybe I need a couple more days vacation, maybe I need a couple more days to myself” or MAYBE maybe I am scared because finally I am allowing myself to come out from behind that TALL wall that i Built as a child when I would wait by the window and get hurt time and time again. Maybe I scared because I am allowing myself to be open to love, care, trust, and all the things that come with any relationship – even the wonderful relationship with my therapist.

Being vulnerable to feelings that once hurt so badly is scary and hard. Coming out from behind the wall that I built since I was 5 years old is scary and hard. That wall that I built was all the pain I felt after being abandoned and rejected time and time again and now I think I am finally breaking down that wall and allowing myself to wait by the window and TRUST it’s okay to miss and love, and be cared for, because I AM WORTH IT.

So I show up tomorrow to therapy and I allow myself to be hugged and give a hug and say “I missed you” and if tears show up, maybe that will be okay too. Maybe it’s okay that I missed being in a place that I heal many days a week. Maybe it’s okay that I missed the kind smile and the load of wisdom from my therapist who knows and holds my story closely.

Maybe it’s okay to wait by the window and trust what is on the other side of the wall.