I need to mention this so I can talk about it, because it was one of those surreal experiences my heart wants to dissect in a million different ways, but I’ve been waiting until I can look back on it from a positive place.
Monday was my therapist appointment with the new therapist, but Sunday night and Monday morning was when I found out more about the undergrad John had a crush on who kind of kicked off all of his doubts and his midlife crisis type thing. While he didn’t cross any physical lines and didn’t engage with her romantically as far as I can tell, they did have really inappropriate flirty/sexual conversations. They also hung out more (and differently) than he’d let on — I’d thought he was just tutoring her, but their meetings weren’t all academic. He seemed hugely affected by this interaction with this girl.
To say I was a mess is a huge understatement. I felt old, ugly, worthless. If he knew he could get girls like that, why would he want me? And since he’s already been wondering aloud if he stayed with me during the hard times in the past because of a dysfunctional need to take care of me, what if he realizes that’s the only reason he’s here now? My abandonment meter was just going bonkers.
I showed up in my therapist’s office with unwashed hair, no makeup, no bra, no forms. I sat down trying to hold my I’m-a-sane-person look together (uh, good luck?) but just immediately started sobbing, because I had to say, “I don’t know if I should be here or if this is an emergency and I need to go to the hospital. So I might need your help figuring that out.”
(possible triggering information behind the jump to the rest of this post: mentions of self-harm, suicide, etc.)