From my journal for Tuesday, July 31
Feeling pretty lost. Still very tired. Woke up OK, but then started thinking uncomfortable thoughts. Thought about — of all things — that detox foot bath that will probably not find a good home and will have to be thrown away. Now I’m sitting here feeling like a profound failure because I haven’t been able to live up to my values.
I also feel terrible about what happened with Eleanor. I went down to give her a hug before leaving for the chiropractor. She immediately began to tell me that there were wasps in the corner of the garden shed on the deck. She went on about five stings on her arm, how her arm swelled up, and her face, and how she could have died. She went on & on about it finally saying something about if the realtor was showing the house and someone got stung there would be a lawsuit… at about that time I broke in and said “I’ve got to leave soon,” and she jumped back and said “I try so hard and everyone’s always getting angry at me, you get angry and Chris gets angry and Jane gets angry…” She was shaking her hands, she was obviously very upset. I just listened, and started crying. I told her I was sorry, I don’t remember what she said. I asked for a hug, but I’m not sure how present she was. She wouldn’t look at me and when she did her eyes were so cold. That was what was most painful.
When I got back there was an apologetic message from her saying she would not show her emotions any more. I called and apologized for not saying right away “I’ll do something about it as soon as I can.” I was thinking that if I had said that firmly enough, she would not have kept on trying to convince me that it needed to be done. I told her I had got distracted thinking that I couldn’t get ahold of Ron right away, but she took that as meaning I thought she wanted me to do it right away. I thought about trying to explain “false urgency,” but was afraid she’d hear that wrong.
So I’m feeling like a total failure at living. I keep seeing things I should do something about, and I feel too tired and discouraged to even begin. I have no sense at all of a kind and loving spirit who holds all of us in compassion. I feel so utterly defeated. I wish I could just die right now and be done with the struggle.
If I knew absolutely that I was going to die tomorrow I would feel such relief. I could even feel my shoulders relax. And then I would wake up and think “O thank god it was just a bad dream.”
I’m even feeling a little distant from Mocha, not sure she loves me, not sure I love her.
My concern about “finding a good home” instead of throwing something away is because I felt that my mother had thrown me away, and I wanted me to find a good home. I remember once I made up a whole story about one of our cars that had been traded in for a new car, and how that car was found by a family who really wanted it. I had no idea at the time that the story reflected something I believed about myself.
What happened with Eleanor triggered my responsibility wound. I’m feeling a despairing agony because I can’t do anything to make it different. This is a place in my life where there should have been a responsible adult, and there wasn’t. My wish to die is a result of my utter helplessness to do anything about what has gone wrong for someone I care very much about.
This has happened many times in my life. Something goes wrong, or someone tells me that I should get a job, or think positively, things that are irrelevant to my life, things I have tried that haven’t made any difference. Because I can’t/won’t do them, I see that I am failing to prove that I deserve to live, and I might as well die. Typing this up, I see how a “relatively trivial” thing — something that I actually was able to do something about — quickly led to wanting to die.