I can do this.
My wolfpack is the softest, warmest blanket on the coldest day.
This morning, with my dietitian, tears formed while she explained her thoughts and observations about why I slipped. Her observation came separately from my own internal one, which precisely matched hers. It was perfect validation. It was exactly what I needed. When I felt the emotional wave come, I let myself ask for what I needed; can you just give me a hug? And as she held me I let it go from my body. I am so protected. The safety in that space is in my heart forever. When there was pause in my crying, she let go and I felt shame leave.
So much more can be accomplished when shame isn’t building impenetrable walls.
I left my dietitian to go straight to my therapist, which, while taxing and sometimes logistically challenging, is monumental to my recovery. It’s as if I have my own personal IOP and has provided opportunities to really work things out. I needed this today. Leaving the arms of one part of the wolfpack to the other part really allows me to exist for a remarkably beneficial amount of time in safety.
And, in love. In trust. In healing.
Sometimes Wednesday’s are exhaustingly hard. But it’s because I’m working hard. I expel a lot of energy finally letting all parts of myself exist.
The last couple times in therapy, I was able to stay in the present simultaneously recalling memories, which is the sweetest gift I could give my younger self. The ability to do this allows me to experience my body somatically–for me that usually comes in the form of shaking or feeling the need to move specific body parts (including my voice box). At the same time, I am met with the care, compassion, and love I needed in those fearful moments as a child by my therapist.
It’s hard to put into words how this feels when it happens. The relief I experience is positively astounding.
Time and trust and love and connection are all keys to healing for me. Today it felt like my wolfpack just knew me well enough to be there for me in all the right ways.
“I love your tenacity, your willingness, your bravery…I love you.” My therapist said these words while I gripped my childhood bunny to my chest, seconds from recovering from letting my body feel fear and then letting her hold me through it, like a small child would want. I felt brave. I felt empowered through truth and love to really keep going.
My parents hardly ever said “I love you” growing up and I didn’t properly comprehend that love isn’t only found in romantic relationships until after college when I made some very close friends that used that phrase frequently with me (though I never said it back–and gosh that must have felt not great for them!). Hearing those words from a trusted and safe connection just really lets little-me feel loved and like an extremely valued part of a relationship I wanted so badly–especially as a child, but if I’m honest, my whole life.
All of the pieces together, everything I felt today through those precious connections, gave me the strength I needed to replace shame with love.
What a beautiful gift they gave me, and what a beautiful gift I gave myself. What a beautiful gift God gave all of us. ❤️❤️❤️
I can do this.