“Cover my eyes
Cover my ears
Tell me these words are a lie
It can’t be true
That I’m losing you
The sun cannot fall from the sky”

Right now I am listening to “Tears of an Angel” by Ryan Dann. The singer apparently wrote this song about their 4-year-old niece who was dying from a brain tumor, but I find a lot of the lyrics give voice to the shock I feel over my psychologist leaving me. In our meeting it took me a while to realise what she was saying to me. She was telling me I need someone, or something, that can give me more support.

“I’m not going to be that person,” she said in a firm voice.

I still didn’t realise what she was saying.

My family and I thought the meeting was about expanding my supports, not withdrawing support.

I understand if a psychologist doesn’t feel qualified to help a client so they refer them on to someone else. But to do this after 4 years? 4 years of building trust, of building a relationship, of building attachment?

My psychologist’s answer was to dump me in a Community Care Unit where I would live and have 24 hour support. My parents asked her if she would still see me while in the Community Care Unit.

“Hmmmm, I’ll have to think about it,” she said.

As Bette Davis said, the pleasure of love lasts but a moment. The Pain of love lasts a lifetime. I would only see my psychologist for an hour a week, but the ghost of her haunts me 24/7.

Other than grieving my psychologist, I’ve been in a lot of distress as I knocked over a smoothie in my bed box/sanctuary (it is a tiny room surrounding my bed which my dad built to block out noise). I didn’t clean it up properly. Now I can’t get the smell out of the carpet. I’ve been at it with laundry soap, vinegar, bicarbonate soda, you name it. It is the last thing I need as I have nothing left in me to deal with anything else. Last night it was driving me crazy to the point where I’d just had enough of everything. I wanted to just cease to exist. I called Lifeline again and I took a lot of pills: 30mg of diazepam, sleeping pills, and codeine. I knew it wouldn’t be enough to kill me (though I wouldn’t have cared if it did). I mainly just wanted to be knocked out. It did succeed at knocking me out, and I didn’t wake up until 4:30pm today. I found covering the carpet with a towel and leaving my essential oil bottle open to mask the smell helped a bit, so I might try that again tonight.