Looking back a couple weeks ago, at my previous post, I thought that I had most of my fears about Dave attempting again, beat. Now I realize that my fears were merely compartmentalized, tucked away, ready to spring into action when some trigger, some reminder set them off.
The day after I wrote the previous post–I was in my therapy session tearfully explaining Continue reading →
It’s been a rough couple of weeks. And this week my therapeutic support system went on vacation (my therapist and therapist coworker). My anxiety has been creeping up for the past couple of weeks and I was having a hard time holding it together on Tuesday to get through to the end of my work day.
My work really has me on edge and it’s been kicking up a lot of anxiety in me. This week it overflowed into my home life–and of course to the closest person to me, Dave. Dave needed me on Wednesday morning. I could tell he desperately wanted me to say that everything was going to be okay with his work situation. But I couldn’t say it.
If he was in this funk a couple weeks earlier, I could have said it and meant it. This week, I can’t even tell myself that things are going to be okay with my work–so how am I supposed to tell him that every thing’s going to be okay with his? But that kind of thinking on my part–is probably my stuff being projected onto him. My worldview at this time of who knows what to expect? Anything can happen. And it might not be okay.
Yesterday morning I was in a bit of a confrontive mode with him, trying to make him Continue reading →
Right after Dave’s second attempt, I felt like I was falling apart. I would come home and see Dave’s car in the carport and think, “Oh please, don’t let me walk in there and find him hanging!” If he was getting a little irritated with me, I feared he was tipping toward an attempt. I was afraid to voice my irritations with him. Fear and anxiety were taking over my life.
So two months after his second attempt I requested individual therapy.
Individual therapy helped because I didn’t have to censor what I said. My therapist helped me process my feelings about my husband, Dave, in it’s very rawest stage, in the safety of four walls. During the session I could craft the language in a style that Dave, my husband, could hear and take in and prevent him from walling me off or spiraling towards suicide.
I got to hear over and over again that it was not my fault.
I got to process the trauma. Grieve. Heal.
Though Dave’s last attempt was over a year ago, I’m still processing it. It still affects me. The fears and anxieties still erupt and Individual therapy has been critical in helping me get through that year.
I am doing individual therapy to take care of me. To help me. To support me. It’s what I need and I’m doing it to take care of me.
Note: This post was created on 8-10-12, before the previouspost , but has just been fine tuned and posted.
We are fast approaching the anniversary of Dave’s attempt last year. I am acutely aware of this anniversary date, even though the sixth year anniversary date of his previous attempt passed without a thought.