This kind of sad (the kind that feels like I’m trapped under a boulder) makes it so hard to get through the time between when I can be safe again.
I’m letting go of all the judgements coming in: you are so weak. You just saw her Tuesday morning. Get your shit together. Why can’t you use other skills? You’re embarrassing and needy. Toughen up. You are annoying. You aren’t even worth her time.
Letting them go. Goodbye judgements.
I am so sad, and I just want my safe space to be in. To be accepted as I am, to be loved, to let the 4-year-old in me be met with compassion and embrace. And that’s ok.
I am so sad and there isn’t anything wrong with wishing for safety.
Depression has taken over every cell in my body (thanks to that time of month) and it’s ok that I want or need (or both) help. It’s totally fucking ok! Even though depression tells me I’m not worth a second of anyone’s time, I still exist somewhere and I can reach out. I am strong enough to talk back even for a split second to reach out so my therapist can talk back for me.
It feels intolerable to be this sad. But I have a wolf pack that wants to help and it’s ok to be with them.