It leaves me feeling lost and like I failed at getting help. Just asking for help was hard. Telling not only myself but then some one else that things were not ideal for me was hard. Really hard. Sitting before someone pouring your soul, your hurt feelings, your fears out is emotionally draining, or at least for me it was.
At least in the bginning I hung onto the hope that in the end I would feel better. I would feel freed from some of the emotional burden I had been carrying around. I thought I might get some insight into where things went wrong. I was determined to gather the skills needed to dump the old hurt and help keep it from buidling again. I would arrive filled with anticipation of feeling a sense of release, desperate to free myself from the emotionally draining turmoil I was in. Instead the wounds just opened wider, in some case salt was poured on and my feeling of dread grew. In the end it felt like we were just throwing a box of bandaids at a torn off limb.
Fast forward a couple of months. Upon reflecting, it was doomed from the start. We just weren't a good fit. No one's fault really, it happens. As a result, I still feel the same way I did going in months ago. And in some cases there's new pain and anxiety. I'm not sure what to do next. The no nonsense part of me says pick yourself up, dust yourself off and carry on. The tired, lonely and damaged part of me says yeah right. Some days are alright, good, great even. But other days, not so much. So in the mean time I sit in a kind of limbo state. A desperate need to feel happy and at peace, while facing the feelings of hurt and despair. I know I will come out the other side fine, stronger, happier, wiser, and more patient. But for today the emotional battle rages on.
