When is a Failure Not a Failure?

I saw my interim care coordinator today. Yesterday,  I text her to ask if she could please read my psychologist’s notes before our meeting because I had gotten myself into a state and wanted to know if I was just catastrophising or if my prospects were as bleak as I was convinced they were. She went one better, and actually spoke to my psychologist  (this woman is amazingly efficient and conscientious!).

It turns out that they think that I’m being far too hard on myself and that I’m throwing my all into this even though the trauma is making it even harder than they’d expect with their combined 50+ years experience – although cunningly the actual hopelessness of my situation was skirted around.

So, I’m maybe not a failure? But I still think I am, really. And I’m still quite convinced that my situation is hopeless – the never-ending complexity of it all certainly has these incredibly experienced professionals flummoxed. I am a mess and crumbling entirely – so much sobbing.

On a very positive note, I’m incredibly impressed at the empathy and will to understand shown by my interim care coordinator today – even as she tried to explain why I should trust her team, she willingly heard why my past trauma wouldn’t allow me to believe that  (both rationally and irrationally) – and why this ties us into this unbreakable loop of terror – and she then went on to rethink her previous statements, saying (words to the effect of:) “Of course that makes sense. What I need to do is take a step back from my long working relationships with this team and my knowledge of the success stories we’ve seen, and try to see it from your eyes with these horrific past experiences of cruelty and punishment from mental health professionals…”. She also saw my care coordinator and she’ll be back to seeing patients soon, hopefully seeing me the week after next. I don’t deserve these amazing people trying so hard to help me, expending their energy on the futile task of helping me get better, pouring care on such an undeserving, hopeless cause.

Oh, I don’t know. I feel like I’ve reached the end of my already depleted energy and strength. I just don’t know what to do.

I’m trying so hard to focus on those positives of those being so kind to me. But I’m so overcome with fear, hopelessness and pain. This is too much and I just can’t carry on.

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