Protected: Just curious

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Password protected

I’m going to password protect some of my blogs because they are becoming pretty intense and deep and I want to avoid some of the comments I’ve received recently because they can trigger more shame etc.

If you would like the password then please email me at

unpackingthesuitcaseblog@mail.com

Overheard on the train

Girl on the train next to me just now. Phones her mum.

“Mum, what time is dinner? Half seven? Perfect. I just need a bath before dinner.

Can I use your bath please? It’s just, mine doesn’t feel very luxurious. It just doesn’t feel…. fun.

I might put on a film and have some wine after I’ve had dinner and a bath. It’s been such a crap day.

I just need a cry.

*starts to cry*

It’s just…..I’m just fed up. I just need to have a big cry. I’ll do that in the bath.

Okay. I love you too. See you soon”.

It’s tough

I got through work just fine again today – this seems to be my new thing and I’m glad about it. Work is full-on and keeping me occupied and I have no time for feeling or thinking too much.

Apart from at lunch when I went to the gym and played a song called “I miss you” by Beyoncé and thought of T. I played it over and over again. There’s a lyric that says “it hurts my pride to tell you how I feel, but I still need to. Why is that?” and that felt so accurate.

I still felt like I was missing T today but slightly differently to last night.

When I got home from work tonight, my sister phoned me. She was “joking” around and told me that my twitter bio looked like that of a 15 year old. She laughed at the things I’ve written – that I like yoga, that I’m a feminist and that I’m beef-free. She said I’m a hippie and “joked” about how I was probably at home burning insense and playing with crystals. She laughed and said I should buy myself a crystal ball.

I started to defend myself by telling her that she probably doesn’t even know what feminism is. She said it’s about the equality of men and women. So I asked her what about that she didn’t agree with/believe in? She started saying that feminists were over the top and how you can’t even have “man-sized” tissues these days because it will upset “some feminist”.

I felt myself getting angry and told her that people who mock feminism are just not educated in what it’s all about. People like her. I said I admit there are some slightly more radical feminists but that was the same in many religions and other beliefs – it’s like saying all Muslims are terrorists etc.

She said I was like one of those people who go travelling “just to find themselves and come back with a shit load of candles”. I reminded her she had recently been travelling… so…..

She also “joked” that I would clearly be married more than once.

By the end of the call, although I didn’t let on to her, I was furious. Steaming. I nearly cried.

This exchange was a trigger for me in many ways. It’s exactly what my mum has always done. She was mocking things I like for no reason and mainly, I guess, these things are part of me discovering who I am. Part of me finding my authentic self and healing (she also thinks my therapy is stupid). Having these things mocked hurt because I feel like they are fragile already, like maybe I’m not into these things like “the real people are”. Maybe I’m not a good enough feminist. Maybe I’m not good enough at yoga.

Also, I’m seeing my mum next week, along with my sister and this is exactly the sort of thing she’s likely to “joke” about and that my mum would find hilarious. I’m not sure I could stay calm if that happened and I know if I got angry, it would be more evidence to them of how unhinged I am and how I can’t take a joke… ahh.

Shortly after this I did actually have to leave to get to yoga (I know right!). I wasn’t in the mood. I felt shit. I went and wondered if it would help or make it worse.

Well, it didn’t do either really. I didn’t feel happy and glowing when I came out like I did last week, in fact I nearly cried a few times and I did cry at the end in savasana when the lights were off. Just a tear or two.

When I got home I felt awfully sad. After eating dinner, my tears finally escaped and I cried and cried and cried for such a long time. I cried that it felt I would never stop crying. I held my chest as I felt pain in my heart again. I felt drained and a bit removed from myself.

My husband sat with me. He tried to make me laugh a few times but that was making it worse and was annoying so I asked him to stop trying to make it better and just be there. I cried and cried.

And now I’m in bed. Sore eyes and awful pain in my stomach which has got progressively worse all night.

I’m tired and drained. The tears weren’t all about my sister’s phone call. In fact I don’t know if any were because of her. I just feel so sad and it feels like processing tears. Trauma tears.

I’m experiencing stuff still. Having emotional flashbacks. It’s tough, really tough.

I’m back

I’m home from therapy and I’m happy again. Thank GOD!

I read two of the things I wrote last week and I absolutely sobbed my way through both of them. Snotty crying, snotty, headache-inducing, boiling hot crying.

But the connection was there again and my T was good again. She felt safe and warm again.

I’m so relieved and happy.

I’ll write the session up soon but I’m going to sleep easy tonight. I’ll sleep like a baby.

Thank goodness. If only I could bottle this feeling.