Attachment Twisted in Grief

I’ve been trying to organize my thoughts for a couple of hours now, but it’s been difficult because I’m pretty dysregulated.

I had a session in person today because I was already in the city for a doctor’s appointment and wanted to take advantage of being able to go in person while I was there.

The thing is, in-person sessions are a lot more activating for me. Especially now that my attachment system is activated with her.

Leaving causes a surge of grief that feels suffocating.

It feels like the kind of pain that could cause death.

And I don’t mean that it’s all connected to her. I just mean it’s pulling on things that are really painful.

While I know it’s pulling on painful things, it’s also an attachment to her that hurts.

Honestly, it’s so complicated, layered, and knotted that I don’t even know how to separate it all.

The reality is that I hold so much gratitude for her. So much appreciation for her time, effort, and willingness to really be with me during this process.

I’m not even sure what is causing the extreme pain.

It’s like I kind of do, but I also don’t.

Right now, I’m feeling some anger surface.

Because I wish I could have just been loved as a kid.

I’m not going to type out all of the memories flooding me. They’re both too intimate to share and too intense to want anyone else to have to read.

But I think the biggest thing weighing on me is wishing I had someone who would have been there to protect me.

To care enough to intervene.

To love me enough not to hurt me.

And while I understand those things are probably what is making this hurt so much, I can’t help but wish for her to be in proximity to me so I could feel some sense of safety right now.

I know that sounds weird.

I know some people would judge that sentence.

But I think I’m going to let it live here anyway.

Because I don’t want to be ashamed of feeling safe with someone who has done a lot to earn that sense of safety.

I don’t think that’s something I need to hide.

I think that’s just the truth.

And maybe that’s part of what makes this all so painful.

To finally experience safety with someone while simultaneously grieving all of the times I needed it and didn’t have it.