Therapy today and we changed gear a little, no disclosure, no past talk, but about what I feel now. It was different, new and scary.
I felt gentle encouragement to say the words I could only write and when I only spluttered out one, I heard him say it for me. I felt myself brace for impact, oh and was there impact! I couldn’t help but wince as it jolted through me. The pain, embarrassment and shame was inevitable, I guess.
Too much, I steered the conversation away, but my lovely T is way too clever for that, he called me on it. Being the stubborn woman I am, I let him encourage me again, I so wanted to admit the truth out loud.
Falling over themselves the words tumbled out and I so wanted to turn back time, to pull them back inside where they are safe, where they can remain forever, where I can pretend they aren’t real, no matter how loud they get. It’s out and it’s real and I feel it.
I can’t help but feel that what was the lie is now my truth.
What do you do when you see yourself as they did?
The lie seem to be the truth, the rationality no longer makes sense.
It’s all about those words and all about that feeling and it’s tainting everything you do.
It’s impact is undeniable, it’s been slowly destroying you for years
And what do you do when wrong feels right, when it makes sense, even when it should not?
It’s as you’ve been chained to it for years and admitting should set you free
except it doesn’t, you feel it more than ever and accepting seems so easy
Were you her? Are you her? Is it really true?
That identity should never have been yours they say,
but you can’t deny the relief, you can’t deny how much it fits.
Rejecting it, rationalising won’t work, it’s always been there. It’s you.