I haven't really got much to say today (the last post was so long that you may still be reading it) except that I went back to work today and boy was it hard to get out of bed this morning! I didn't actually make it out until 9.43 and considering I'm supposed to be in work by ten at the latest, it wasn't a great start to the new year. Thankfully my manager is pretty relaxed about these things and seems to know I do my hours, so I've never been pulled up about being late, yet I don't want to push my luck. Tomorrow I have to be up and at em by 7.30am. You can't lie in when you have a clinic to run! It's always tough getting back into the routine after being off. Oh well, at least today wasn't too stressful by my usual standards. I really hope I can get to sleep tonight though. My sleep is so variable. At the moment it seems to be: sleeping, but feeling like part of me is still awake at the same time (maybe part of me is?).
The other thing I wanted to say is that I am doing OK... you know... coping wise... since T left. Each day since I saw her last week I've thought 'I'm doing OK now but how will I be after x, y and z happen?' Well, x and y have now happened and I'm still OK... but z is still on the horizon. Z being, meeting the replacement clinical psychologist. That is going to happen on Thursday morning.
So what does OK mean? OK means, I've been thinking about T, but not feeling bad that she's gone. I'm sad that she's gone, but not in a 'my life is over' kind of way and I don't feel all that sad either really. I've just felt fine about it. I don't feel abandoned the way I thought I would (I'm sure you're as surprised as I am about this). I haven't reflected much about this (and you will understand why in just a moment) but in the brief time I have spent reflecting, I've come up with two possible reasons as to why I am not feeling 'abandoned'.
1) T is coming back in six months. I knew she was coming back, but I thought I didn't believe she would. Maybe part of me realised that thinking that this was goodbye forever would be too much to cope with, so it's easier just to tell myself that she is coming back and focusing on that has helped me feel positive.
2) It's a parts thing. It's just not going to work for me at the moment to have the parts active who are going to feel awful, so they are either gone down, wherever they go (the back of the bus) or I'm not connected to them at the moment and the ones who are more positive and helpful are up at the front of the bus. I guess I'm in function mode. It doesn't help to try to connect with those other parts just now, it's a huge risk because who knows, they may be feeling pretty awful and I can't risk that coming out. So I am avoiding thinking too much about it (hence the little reflection).
One thing I will remind myself of though is that function mode is fragile. It works great for me because it makes life easier, but it is very fragile in that if something bad was to happen, the crash can be devastating: much worse than it might be when I'm a more balanced version of myself. I am therefore treading carefully and trying to avoid too much stress. I'm avoiding reflecting and Adam has been warned to tread carefully (as much as I hate to put pressure on someone else because of my own problems, but it's probably in his interests too at the moment).
I've just thought of a third possible reason actually: maybe that meltdown I had just before Christmas eve was me dealing with T leaving after all. Maybe that release of anguish was what I needed to get out some bad feelings and now I am feeling more accepting of the situation.
Whatever the reason, no one is as relieved as I (except, maybe for Adam, who was bracing himself for disaster) and I just hope things continue to go well. I am kind of nervous about what the heck I am going to say to new psychologist on Thursday now... "Hi, I'm Candy and I've been miraculously cured in the last week! Forget everything my notes say about me, I'm fine really. Thanks but I don't think I'll be needing you." OK, maybe we should just take one day at a time.
