Staring at Walls

A sense of numbness resides in my brain.
protecting me from the constant, repeating pain
of losing not a loved one but someone I treasure
whose help and support have been words I could measure

Six weeks of sessions left may sound like a lot
but from my side of the fence, it feels like it’s not
as my mind takes over and makes all the rules
I still dissociate and find myself staring at walls

I go elsewhere in my head to escape the trauma
that exists in my core with me trapped in the corner
with him calling the shots; the bastard, the shit
I’m rarely foul-mouthed, but he deserves all of it

I must try my best with the short time I have left
Try not to melt or disappear when feeling bereft
The time will go quickly; then, they’ll be no more C*
I wonder and worry how much they’ll be left of me

If I find someone new; if I get on the long list
I’ll still wish I was with C*; she’ll be so sorely missed
It won’t be the same as when I first started out
Will I be able to trust again? Right now, I’m in doubt


Now I’m counting the minutes, the hours and the days
like a kindergarten game or a new nursery craze
There’s so much of me still needing to mend
Who will I finally be if I ever get to the end?

*C – Counsellor

Image source – Photo by Aron Visuals on Unsplash

46 thoughts on “Staring at Walls

  1. It’s a beautiful poem, Ellie. It must be really tough, but I pray that you’ll find someone you can trust and it will be for the best. Take care.❤🤗

    1. Thank you so much, Aaysid. I appreciate your kindness. It is very tough at the moment. I’m keeping my fingers crossed and hoping I can find someone else to help me in the new year. It seems like an age away right now. Xx 🤗💖

  2. Such beauty in your writing though you are going through a challenging journey. Stay in prayer 🙏 you are so strong as you share with us all. I think of you each day and will continue to lift your name in prayer! It is difficult, but it helps me to continue to give praise for all that I have thrived and that I have continue to strive through!
    Love you sweetie 💝💓💞

    1. Oh, thank you so much, Pamelap. I so appreciate your thoughts and prayers for me. You really are so kind. I hope that you are well and content. Sending much love to you, also Xx 💖💕💖

      1. Yes, dear Ellie. Like rawgod said— you are loved, dear one. Remember how every step of the process brings you closer to you & healing. Trust the process. Thanks, rawgod. I appreciate you XoXo

  3. Hopefully, your counselor can leave you with some ‘tools’ to help bridge the gap until the next one comes along. Just a thought. You know I’m rooting for you and I’ll be happy to help you find a ladder anytime you would like. ❤️

    1. Thank you, Linda. Yes, I expect she will do that. I will definitely mention it before we get to our last session together. Thank you for being there and wanting the best for me. It means a lot, and I appreciate your caring very much. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to reply to your email yet, but you are on my list to contact during the morning tomorrow since I have a reasonably quiet day then (I hope). Perhaps, we can look for that ladder together. I’m so glad we’ve met and become friends. More tomorrow … Xx 💝

    1. Thank you very much, Ann, for appreciating the despair that I feel from having to end my counselling at such short notice. There isn’t really going to be much time to work on ending with all the other issues needing attention, too. X

  4. Yes, 6 weeks is pretty short but it’s still time to work on a strategy. I hope C will help you develop some coping strategies to fall back on in her absence. You haven’t written about trekking on Alfie (or his latest incarnation) lately. Are you getting out much?

    1. Thanks for appreciating my situation, Jeff. I’m sure C will help me adapt to the ending. It worries me that, on top of that, I still haven’t resolved all my larger issues.

      You are right; I haven’t written about getting out with Alfie for a while. I’m not going out much these days at all. I go to counselling on Wednesday afternoons and sometimes go to a group litter-picking job on Thursday afternoons, weather permitting. I don’t feel much like doing anything else at the moment. Some days, I don’t even manage to get dressed in the morning, which is not something that I’m proud of. Thanks for asking x

  5. Ellie, it is extremely hard to lose a pillar in your life, be it therapy, friends or family. But that does not preclude you from doing things for yourself. If you need to talk, do it. If you need a distraction do it. But don’t let yourself stay in that rabbit hole, it is not a good place to be. You are a brilliant poet, and check my notifications every day to see if you have written something new, and you did it once again. And yet another beautiful poem. Be kind to yourself, don’t underestimate yourself, and don’t always think you cant do it, you are doing it. It is hard to go solo in life. I am still worried about my own future now that my mom is gone. I am old and not getting any younger and my medical bills are going to eat up my savings eventually. But even with that, I still have to take it one day at a time. Hang in there and always know we do care.

    1. Thank you for your sensitive comment, Brian. I am finding it incredibly hard right now, as my friends know. I am doing things for myself away from WP. Sometimes, I do some art, nothing complicated, just colouring in mandalas and random patterns. I’m meant to be involved in a gardening project every Tuesday, but the wet weather is preventing that from happening at this time of the year. I also do litter-picking with a group of eco-aware friends on Thursday afternoons (also weather permitting). That’s about the best I can manage at the moment. I get the most relief from my feelings while I’m writing. That’s one of the most important things for me to do. In fact, I don’t think I could survive without that.

      Thank you for liking my poetry – it means a lot. I still read a lot of blogs of all sorts and enjoy them, although I can’t always get my head to work sufficiently to leave comments on every piece. That’s not to say that I don’t like or think a lot of that person’s work. It’s just that my concentration skills have got a bit battered lately. Living life as a solo person is though, I agree with you. I feel very lucky to have so many wonderful and understanding WP friends here.

      I’m sorry that you are feeling so concerned about your future now that you have lost your dear mom. I know how hard that is having lost my Mum six years ago this Christmas. I’m sorry you have the additional worry of being able to afford your medical bills – that must be very scary and I feel for you. I will try to take one day at a time, as you suggest; in fact, that’s all I can do right now. Sending comfort, peace and warmth to you, Brian … Ellie X

      1. It boils down to “do what you gotta do”. Coloring mandalas? Wow, I can’t even do stick figures. Gardening ? I love looking at nature, but I hate dealing with it. You’re braver than I am int that respect.

        But yea I did lose my mom, and my future is uncertain, but I still manage to smile and laugh because the moment is all one has really. It is ok to enjoy life even after enduring pain. Give yourself permission to smile and laugh. Nobody should dare suggest that means you lose your empathy or be numb to life. But don’t dwell in that rabbit hole.

        Concentration skills? If I wrote an autobiography about myself it would be called “I Like Shiny Objects”. Or “Squirrel!”. I have the attention span of gnat, and that is ok. Life comes at you faster than ever now, so it is hard to absorb everything all at once. Don’t try to be super human, just be yourself. It really shows in your poems. That is all anyone can ask of you.

  6. A pertinent question, Ellie. Well! You writings have created such memories and gifted people warmth, love and laughter. I like you being a bit raw in this poem; raw emotions.

    What will remain? The poet, the writer, the fighter and source of inspiration. What will remain? The friend! Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig tight hug!

    1. Thank you for reading my poem and leaving me a very kind comment, my friend. Writing from my soul is one of the few things I get comfort from these days. I have written very many raw poems over the last few weeks/months – it’s the only way I can express my innermost feelings. I am very fortunate to have so many wonderful WP friends and readers supporting me as I go through such a difficult time. Hopefully, one day in the not-too-distant future, I may feel up to writing humour and lighthearted poetry again. Thank you so much for your biggest, tightest hug. It brings me a lot of comfort. Xx 💖

  7. I, too, feel certain you will get through this. Colour some more mandalas (such a lovely idea!), and maybe just fire up Alfie and get out for a while with no particular destination or purpose, other than to look around at everything.

    1. Thanks for your vote of confidence, Mick. I’m lucky to have many lovely WP friends and readers supporting me. I enjoy colouring (I’m hopeless at drawing, though). Tomorrow’s weather is meant to be chucking it down in bucketfuls all day. I will bear your comment in mind for Wednesday. I have to go to counselling that day, so, weather permitting, I will go for a drive down by the river. Thanks for your encouragement, Mick x

  8. Beautiful and very honest!!
    I wish the positive in your future.
    I hope you see the missing light soon.
    I hope you fly again soon. The sky is waiting for you.
    Sending you some good vibes lovely friend.

    1. Thank you for your lovely comment, Devang. You say the most beautiful things. You don’t know much for constant support means to me, my friend. Thank you for always being there.

      1. This beautiful community/family is always with you.
        Trust me, those who read your work regularly, those who are standing beside you in these hours will always stick to you.
        We all together will fight this, and we will win.

  9. My deepest prayer is you find someone even better. I know those words are sort of nonsense right now and so “pollyannaish” but maybe it will work out like it did for me.

    About ten years ago I was seeing a therapist who left to specialize with children. I felt some, not all, of the disappointment and pain you are feeling. The thought of SAYING ALL THE THINGS again felt daunting and wrong. It felt horrible and gross. I didn’t want to do it again. I did it already. I wanted the gold star and to be able to move onto other things, harder things, deeper things. I didn’t want to START OVER.

    The place I could afford assigned me another therapist, I did not get to choose, and it was a man. As most of my issues are with MEN, I went to that appointment with a horrible rock in my gut. I wanted to hate him, but from the second I sat across from him I knew he was the exact right person to get me to trust men again. He was gentle, kind, thoughtful, tender and he pulled out more from me in several months then I’d got from the two years with my previous therapist. While she was always sympathizing with me, he got me to move past a lot of my pain. He got me to believe in goodness again.

    I share all this because, just maybe, this is the path forward for you. Maybe C was the right person to get you speaking about what happened, but maybe someone else is out there to help you move through it. In the meantime, I’m here and I love you.

  10. Oh, Bridgette, I have tears in my eyes as I read this – not sad tears for myself, but happy tears for you and your recovery or the journey towards recovery. It’s so good to know that happened for you in the way that it did. Although, at present, I can’t imagine starting all over again with someone new, and having to go through all the awful stuff again with that new person., I can see that, perhaps, this will be for my own good in the long run, even though it definitely doesn’t feel that way at the moment. I’m so fearful of losing C. I saw her today, and we talked about boundaries – something I’ve always had problems with because of my childhood and then with an earlier toxic, emotionally-abusive counsellor who I saw for eight years, three times a week. I’ve written much about her in the past, and that time with her was when my mental health was at the lowest it had ever been. I’ve carried so much anger about her since. She walked out on me the day my dad died, but I’ve worked through all that anger with C., so I don’t think I’ll have to go back over all that stuff and mess again.

    When (and it feels like ‘if’ right now) I get over losing C. I hope I will find someone who, like you, will help me move through and onwards in my recovery. It’s just going to be a long wait until I get anyone else again. I had an eight-month wait to begin to see my present counsellor so that I could be in for an equally long wait again. I don’t know how I will cope in the meantime (I will look into telehealth). Thank you so much, my friend, for always being there for me. I know we have different lives and are in different parts of the world, but I think of you as a dear friend, even though we only ‘meet’ via WordPress. Thank you again. So much love to you, dear Bridgette. Xxx 💝💖💝

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