I know it’s New Year, and much joy abounds but I’m full of despair, and it’s really profound I’m trying to enter into the spirit of things but I know this week is carrying the sting
Last night, bells rang, and glasses were clinked I sat here alone, and all I could think was the fear inside of me is here to stay It filled me with utter and complete dismay
At Christmas time, I had my family here and just for a while, it allayed all my fears The children were great; I was thankful to see Then, darkness descended, crippling me
I’m trying to hang on to a morsel of hope when the whole of me is fighting to cope I feel like my world will collapse forever as my therapy ends; our relationship severed
I’ve written a letter to say thank you so much I’m longing for a hug or a gentle touch I know it’s unlikely; it’s not meant to be Boundaries are there for Chris* and for me
I’m dreading Wednesday coming this week I can’t see a future, not even a peek My body is shaking; my head full of fear The feeling of grief rises up to appear.
* Chris is my therapist/counsellor (until Wednesday)
NOTE: Forgive me a while if I can’t read your writing I love you all, but I’m tired of the fighting.
‘Lonely this Christmas’, the song sung originally by Elvis Presley. Here, sung by MUD. Lyrics shown below text.
It’s Christmas Day, and here I am, sitting all alone while my son plays happy families at his ex-girlfriend’s home* I woke this morning – early – as I very often do feeling pessimistic, low in mood and deeply blue
No cards on the table or presents on the chair No tree in the corner, no tinsel; do I care? I speak sternly to myself, for does it really matter I’ve eaten all the mince pies and am only getting fatter
I miss talking to my Mum so frequently today She passed away six years ago, almost to the day I miss our laughs, shared over long-distance cups of tea My heart hurts without her, my darling bonne amie
I cooked a Christmas dinner; I ate enough for two I really should have guessed it; that’s what I always do I haven’t had my pudding yet, served with vegan cream I’m bursting at the seams because I go to the extreme
My friend was going to phone me, but she hasn’t got the time so I replied, ‘don’t worry – I’ll be absolutely fine’ I’m sure that she believed me, my every single word But I knew that my sentiments had gone totally unheard
Pull yourself together, girl; it’s really not that bad I’ve plenty to be grateful for; I ought not to be sad I wonder if the future holds any more of the same I honestly don’t want to play this lonely, tired game
Peanut [cat] isn’t well; she’s completely off her food Or perhaps, she is only picking up on my sombre mood I’m longing for my bedtime to finish this long day Tomorrow will be better when the children come to play.
* Explanation for this line …
I really don’t know what I’ve done wrong this year. I feel very excluded and ignored this Christmas. My son, Tom, is separating from his girlfriend (now ex-girlfriend). He’s found a new partner whom he loves very much, and they are buying a new house together. Tom and his ex. have been trying to sell their house, but it’s proving difficult in this present economic climate.
For no apparent reason, Tom decided to spend Christmas with his ex., his ex’s three adult girls and his ex’s parents. I met them all before on a previous Christmas Day about four years ago. We all got on okay. I don’t understand why I wasn’t included this year – I just know that it hurts – it hurts very much. Tom only has the children every other year, so the next Christmas I can spend with them will be in two years’ time. By then, my granddaughter will be at secondary school! Children grow up so quickly.
LYRICS
Try to imagine a house that’s not a home Try to imagine a Christmas all alone That’s where I’ll be Since you left me My tears could melt the snow What can I do Without you I’ve got no place, no place to go
It’ll be lonely this Christmas Without you to hold It’ll be lonely this Christmas Lonely and cold It’ll be cold so cold Without you to hold This Christmas
Each time I remember the day you went away And how I would listen to the things you had to say I just break down, as I look around And the only things I see Are emptiness and loneliness And an unlit Christmas Tree
It’ll be lonely this Christmas Without you to hold It’ll be lonely this Christmas Lonely and cold It’ll be cold so cold Without you to hold This Christmas
You remember last year, when you and I were together We never thought there’d be an end And I remember looking at you then And I remember thinking that Christmas must have been made for us ‘Cause darlin’, this is the time that you really need love When it means so very very much
So it’ll be lonely this Christmas Without you to hold It’ll be so very lonely Lonely and cold
It’ll be lonely this Christmas Without you to hold It’ll be lonely this Christmas Lonely and cold It’ll be cold so cold Without you to hold This Christmas
Many of you will know that my counselling with Chris is ending on the 4th of January, which I’m terrified about. I would normally be there this afternoon and again next week, but the counselling agency is, understandably, closed for two weeks for the Christmas holidays and New Year. The best way I can cope with the absence of my session today is to write, so I thought I’d write a simple poem for my new, as yet unknown counsellor.
Dear Unknown Counsellor,
I’m devastated and so upset to be away from Chris I’ve fallen into the darkness and straight into the abyss
I’ve no idea when I’ll meet you Apparently, there’s a queue Otherwise known as a waiting list How long? I wish I knew
I do hope that we’ll get on and in you, I’ll learn to trust I hope you’ll understand my truths and not view me with disgust
I write a lot of poetry and dabble with some ‘art’ It’s just how I express myself pouring out the whole of my heart
I have a problem with anger I can’t get it off my chest I can’t scream into a pillow although I’ve tried my best
I hope I get to meet you soon I’m scared out here all alone I’ve been so lucky to have Chris and the care that she has shown
*Please take away the ticking of the therapy room’s clock It reminds me of the horror room and the door with the bolted lock
My heart is already broken in two I have one more week; then, the end I hope my words are acceptable and these thoughts that I have penned
Where do I begin with you? Do I have to start over again? I think I could talk forever dispelling this huge weight of pain.
Yesterday would have been my father’s 93rd birthday. He has been gone for ten years now, and although it doesn’t sound very kind, I really don’t miss him. He was a cruel, mean and bitter man, who made our family life a misery for as long as I can remember. There was nothing charming about him at all ……
My Father was a formidable man; Mum called him difficult She was right; love was never on his radar, and we knew it He made sure we knew it, day in, day out, speaking cruel words Any self-esteem I may have had was smashed to smithereens
He earned very good money; yet kept us all short Our food was scarce while he dined like a king Our clothes from jumble sales; his, only the finest Holidays were non-existent; he jetted around the world
Meals were taken separately; us in the cold kitchen like servants Him in the comfort of the warm living room, waiting to be served “Are you coming down for dinner today, daddy”, I was sent to ask? “NO!! Go down in the kitchen with your mother,” he yelled
It was like we didn’t exist in his world; our company was not required He preferred the cricket while puffing on his stinking pipe Balkan Sobranie (only the best), drinking scotch and eating peanuts He stank of pipe ash and alcohol as he demanded I kiss him goodnight
I lay in bed alone in the room above the kitchen – filled with dread Waiting for the screaming and shouting to start, the bangs and thumps I clung on to my teddy, called Peter, and cried with fear, face in the pillow I knew Mum would make excuses for her bruises and cuts in the morning
She wanted to protect us from the worry, fear and distress It might have worked for the little ones – I knew better She told me she’d fallen off a chair changing a light bulb She had a cauliflower ear – lost her hearing in that ear
He died in 2012 – a grand funeral; kind words abounded His friends in high places said, “so sad, such a lovely man.” “His family will miss him greatly.” Feeling guilty, I felt nothing Who was this man these people spoke of?
Most of you who know me will have learned that my desperately-needed counselling has to come to an end on the 4th of January 2023 (straight after the New Year). I’m on a two-week break over Christmas at the moment. You know how terrified I am of being without Chris. I’m still on a long waiting list to enable me to see someone else; this is likely to be months rather than weeks. All the things and emotions I’ve shared with her, some of which I’ve never shared with anyone before, where do they go? Do I have to begin all over again with a new person? I’m not sure I coud bear that.
I wanted to write something for Chris to express my gratitude for all the work we’ve done together, but also to share my fear of coping without her to speak to every Wednesday.
THE JOURNEY
I wanted to write something purely for you to say thank you for all that you’ve done and do I came, and you helped me to open my heart You’ve listened to poems and seen bits of art
You’ve travelled my journey alongside with me through all the depression and anxiety We tried to deal with my muddled eating That was the first thing we intended treating
But, then came the flashbacks of child sex abuse A crime committed with no good excuse I shared secrets I’d never discussed before Felt guilty as hell as I stared at the floor
You’ve been by my side and witnessed my pain Taught me I’m worthy and have lots to gain You’ve reassured me I wasn’t to blame and helped me let go of the awful shame
Trying to deal with my anger was tough I couldn’t scream or shout loud enough I did once throw hard clay at the chair Tried to imagine the bastard sat there
I poured out my soul in words, rhyme and tears and looked at my strengths and all of my fears I’m so grateful to you for hearing my truth of long, long ago, back in my youth
You’ve listened to secrets and made me feel brave and I’m dreading our final goodbye and last wave How do I live with this loss and my pain? I just can’t believe I won’t see you again.
My heart is still heavy, but I’m wanting to write I’ve opened my ears and sharpened my sight I’m trying my best to keep trudging along Not to do anything drastic or wrong
Spent the weekend with the kids and my son I’ve let go of the thoughts of firing the gun Thanks to my friends here for sticking by me Without all of you, I’d doubt I’d still be
I’m busy this week, which might just be good Not really up to it, but know that I should Still don’t feel able to read a lot My stomach just feels full of knots
Christmas, for me, is a lonely time But, I guess I’ll have quiet to pen a rhyme Lost my Mum on the 30th of December During the holidays, it’s tough to remember
I’ve still got an awful long way to go The process is still incredibly slow I’m dreading my therapy, with the end being near January the fourth, I’m still full of despair
Before that time comes, there’s a three-week break The thought of this makes me a physically ache With the end being nigh, and that’ll be that Somebody else will sit where I once sat
After that, I have to wait on the list My counsellor will be so sorely missed Everything is exposed and so raw Will it be like this forevermore?
Just to let you know, I’m taking things slowly with getting back to reading and commenting and am limiting myself to just a few blog posts a day for the time being. I’m missing all my regular bloggers, but am doing the best that I can. I wanted to write something today and will probably continue to do so as the days go by because it helps me to process my feelings. I’ve got a very busy few days coming up (unusual for me), so please bear with me. Thank you to all of you, my readers and regular bloggers, for having faith in me and for your kind patience.
She got up early and painted her face to cover the shame and her falling from grace She dyed her hair ginger and put blue on her eyes She thought she’d catch all her friends by surprise
She smacked on red lips and looked into the glass Outside the window, she watched people pass Nobody noticed this sad tired stranger Nor that she was in imminent danger
She pulled on her face and forced out a smile and held the expression for quite a while She easily feigned joy; could have earned first prize for kidding them all with her perfect disguise
Exhausted and weary, she started yawning and time slipped by, ‘though it was still morning She pulled down her hat to cover her frown No one would know her, dressed up as a clown
She’d tried so hard but things were so tough She decided that enough was enough What a sham, what a game; she picked up the knife Could she pluck up the courage to take her own life?
Sitting here blankly, staring at the wall Asking myself why I’m still here at all Only two days ago, laughing and joking Anguish has returned, prodding and poking
I’ve been making such effort all day today Holding in misery and fearful to say Just when I thought it’ll all be okay Depression decided to come out to play
Keep my head in the clouds, feet on the floor Hoping joy will return to knock on the door Fighting the sadness, I’m not giving in Not knowing how or where to begin
Tired though I am; I’ve got to keep running Fighting off memories; keep the good coming Therapy fading and slipping away Making the most of each session, each day
I’m trying so hard again not to lose hope Nearly evening now, and it’s tough to cope How do I start to cut me some slack? Come on, start climbing; no looking back.
Essentially Ellie 