Comfort and Compassion

I'm so glad she's my GP.

After feeling like she didn't understand how much things had affected my before christmas, today I just felt that harsh and firm attitude had gone.  After telling her about the family arguments over christmas and how I was defending by all except the one who doesn't think before he speaks and doesn't care how he make others feel, as i sat with the tears rolling yet again, i'm sure there was a term of endearment used as she told be where the tissues were.  It's something i don't think i've ever heard from her before.

Its not just my family that i feel i have to make things up to, but there are a few professionals too and as she's been my GP for the past 8 years and saved my life literally by coming out to me or seeing me when i had jeopardised my life, not always meaning to at times, I feel i owe her a lot too.

She made me smile though the tears today though.

She said that it wasn't my fault that i came from "a wonky egg" and that it wasn't mum's either.

I do know that now, even if i do need reminding of it occasionally but as i responded to her, i find it hard feeling like i am still living a battle not a life. Do i really have to spend the rest of my life fighting rather than living?

She took my hand before I left.  It's a kind of a cross between a hand shake and that comforting holding of someone's hand.  It's the closest she'll ever (rightly) come to crossing that boundary.  But I know when she does take my hand that I've got it right somewhere and she's willing me to keep fighting.

3 weeks until the ultimate change

Yet again it's been a long time since I posted anything. However I now realise that certain things don't happen when you are busy all the time.   Leave for work at 7.15, work normal hours,  do overtime,  go to the gym and then come home eat and curl up on the sofa before repeating again the next day. Not only do blog posts not happen but neither does self harm - unless things get far too unbearable and the you make up some excuse and go in late. 

That happened for only the 2nd time in the whole 18 months I was there a couple of weeks ago.  I say 'was' because yesterday was my last day.  Quitting a job that you quite like and are good at (and is the longest job you've ever held down without breaking down! ) is one of the hardest things to do.   I have cried so much at work over the last two weeks.

But now that work is over I have a week in the middle of nowhere - literally- on a remote Scottish island and then two weeks to get myself fully organised snd try not to cry constantly over the fact that I'm moving out of home. As soon as I started to type that paragraph the tears started so I think that's an impossible task.

No matter how many people or how many times I am told that it will be good for me and I will be great at it etc etc it cannot take away the panic and fear that's in my mind.  Or that emotion that I can't explain to people that makes me cry so hard.

The trouble when i get back though during the final 2 weeks is that I will have that time despite the jobs that need doing and the people that need seeing, I will have that time to think and let my thoughts damage me. K wanted me to keep track of the harming no matter how big or small but when I am busy and tired I lose track. For two weeks I have the potential to harm and then have the time to tidy up, but if my future plans were to find out I could jeopardise it,  yet I don't think that's enough to stop me because if no one knows. ... It never happened.