It was wonderful to see Tricia. It was so good to get a hug from her and catch up at least a little bit.
I basically ran down the last 8 months or so for her, just so that she could know some context of the depression, from going off my meds to starting to work, to getting hit this winter, to taking in a friend of ours for a while, to going back on meds, the acceleration of Henry's illness and his death.
She understood, I think, where I am at, and asked me why I wasn't allowing myself to cry. "Why stop yourself from crying?"
I don't know the answer.
I feel like I unplugged a power cord and now can't find the end of it, or the outlet to plug it into.
I find that I keep saying, "I can't."
The "I can't" will keep me going down that road and become "I shouldn't," or "I never."
Bottling won't help me.
I know that.
IN MY HEAD.
What about in my heart?
Why am I so afraid of feeling?
Why am I holding back?
I am angry with myself that I can't seem to just let go.
Tricia reminded me that it's OK not to cry, to not try to force the tears, but at the same time to not stop the tears either.
She is hoping that I won't need to come back in, that just one appointment with her as an objective outsider will be enough. But we scheduled an appointment out there in two weeks, just in case. If I need it, it's there, but if I don't I can cancel.
She said that she heard me mention that there were some things that I had wished I could tell Henry, that I just never got the opportunity, nor got the guts up to say when I did have the opportunity.
She suggested that I write a letter to him. Address it to him. A "no send" letter. She said that I process by writing, and write so well. (I haven't felt that lately) She said that it might really be helpful for me.
Tricia then saw the look on my face, and quickly said that I didn't have to do it if I didn't want to, but that it might help.
I don't know what my face looked like, but ALMOST..... I choked up a bit. I could feel the lump then, like I do now, but then it was gone. I think that might be what she responded to when she said I didn't have to write the letter.
I am praying that at some point, God will find the end of that power cord, the outlet, and plug it back in..... at the right time.