I’m back to being in bed lacking any desire to eat, move, or do anything that resembles living. Even in this state, I am proud of two things, that I still desire to go to work, and that when my mom starts overreacting to my state, I don’t get angry at her, but rather accept that she overreacts because she cares, and she really doesn’t understand.
I don’t think anyone can fully understand, unless you’re in it. It doesn’t make sense, it’s completely irrational but yet it makes all the sense in the world.
I canceled my therapy sessions, and ignored all of her calls and texts, and only called back after she expressed being worried. But I explained to her like I explained to my friends:
I don’t want to live without my attachment figure. I don’t want to be happy without her. I don’t want to succeed if she’s not by my side. I have no desire to think or function without her. I have spent my whole life living in search of this perfect love, and I don’t know how to do anything else, and i’m afraid that I will fail at everything else I try.
The author of this post describes what I feel but lacked the words to say. She puts words to the feelings of attachment and enmeshment that have made up my whole life.
[I currently have a great relationship with my mother and so feel incredibly guilt-ridden experiencing my attachment difficulties as I do today. However, I have a lot of relational trauma stemming from how it ‘used to be’. I was asked to write a stream of consciousness about what I crave from mother figures, so this is what I did] -
What do I get from female authority care-giver figures?
I get love even if it isn’t really love. I get what feels like love. I get love in the form of time and attention and support and affection. I get love in the form of mothering. I like it when people express concern for me in a way I perceive as maternal. I liked it when my therapist expressed her disapproval towards me having only woken up at midday, because it felt motherly. If she hadn’t given a shit, she…
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