heard

Although I had a beautiful, beautiful birthday which I will blog about later, by this morning I was broken and aching. Crying as I showered, practically whimpering, for sure weeping. Some of my haunting anguishes and disappointments and hurts had burrowed their way back into my heart. Darn those burrow paths straight to hell. I thought I had filled them all in and had it all figured out. But alas...no.

I had a 9 am session with Kristopher planned since last week. I never have morning appointments. Sometimes I just think God knows these things. That I would need this early appointment.

I had planned on expressing my annoyance with Kristopher over something that happened in group. But this morning it was all forgotten. I was simply so sad. And he knew it.

I had had less then four hours of sleep. I had wept in the shower, and then as I showered I had no less then three children knock on the door wanting something from me, no one helped wake up two of the kids who should have been on the bus, the car wouldn't start...again..., the house hadn't been cleaned for a year, my hand was still peeling from doing three days of dishes by hand because our dishwasher broke, my pants were too tight, and heartache over way more important things was bubbling over.

Kristopher and I met in a different room than normal because his office was occupied. He kept the lights dim and soothing. Sun streamed through about six giant windows of the conference room. It was peaceful and nice.

I sat. He sat.

And we talked.

And no one can know in my heart how much that means to me. To talk. And be heard. And understood  There is pure unadulterated sacredness and magic about being understood. It is vital to my very existence.

Kristopher asked how I was. I told him I was awful. That. is. hard. for. me. I am the queen of saying I am "fine". In fact, I get in trouble for saying that in group. In. Trouble.

He told me to quit saying I was "fine" at group. Because clearly I was not just "fine" and he wants me to share it. I can share easily on my blog. Because you don't have to read it if you don't want to so I am not burdening you. But to share in group feels so annoying that I am forcing those other people to have to listen to my dumbola problems.

We talked about why I was not fine. I told him to hospitalize me. But he wouldn't. I'm glad he knows I am a touch dramatic. :)

Instead he enveloped my troubled spirit into his realm of peace and safety. It's like Bella from Twilight when she spreads her "shield" all over her loved ones. That's how I felt. Kristopher was soft and quiet. I like soft and quiet. I am loud. He told me once he tries very hard to make his office an oasis for people. I think he has succeeded.

He made sense of my brokenness and my mental trauma and drama. And I rested in his safe world of answers and compassion for a while. It is a nice fake world. And now I have to go back out into the real world. And survive. Owiee.

What a depressing post. I am sorry. I have a lot of people appreciative that I share. And I just felt compelled to share the rawness of this.  I have A LOT of confusion that I am trying to work through. Therapy takes time.