I don’t know how to write this. I don’t know how to move forward. Today was very low. The first really low day I’ve had in a while. The depth of this low was something I haven’t felt in sometime, possibly more than a year. That’s progress, I guess. Today I wished I wasn’t alive.

I need to tell my Dad about the abuse. Tomorrow is the day. I keep going back and forth between telling him, sharing my truth and hurting him, and the alternative of carrying this cross by myself. There is so much context that would aid his understanding of me, aid his understanding of what I want him to do for me, for who I want him to be. I cannot control who he is and what he chooses to do. So perhaps I will let go of that notion. I probably won’t, truthfully, but I will let go of projecting my expectations onto him.

My heart is hurting right now, physically. The beginning of the refracturing. Replacing the shame that glued my heart back together, to replace it with love. Love I could maybe get from the external, perhaps. I will glue it back together with love I have for myself. It is in my path to take this course of action.

I hate when people tell me to look to the future. It’s easy for them to say. They don’t have this suffocating weight of sadness, anger, confusion, heartbreak in their psyche. I consider them lucky. My reality is so far from the realm of possibility for them. They are the luckiest. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemies, a turn of phrase. The only enemy I have is myself. The only person I hate with that much fury is myself.

I asked my Mum tonight what she thought about it. She said she wants to know. I broke down in tears. I am crying now. I have been fighting so hard and for so long on my own, just like I did as a kid. There’s so many layers to this heartbreak. It is late and I need sleep before therapy tomorrow morning. I am so lucky to have a session tomorrow. Originally it was for my desire to tear everything down being very strong in me. This feeling was only identified in me in the last few days. I am not sure if they are related, me telling Dad this and this desire. I hope not. Maybe unconsciously the need to talk to my Dad has been brewing and this feeling was what I was identifying. I can’t wait to tell my therapist about how good it has been with my parents too. I hate I only tell my therapist about the bad stuff. Always a crisis moment, seemingly.

How do I feel in my body right now? Tingling all over. I am so tired. Peeling off these layers is so painful. A delicate process. My Mum tried to comfort me tonight by reminding me of the mountain I said I was on. I pointed out a flat plateau and said that is where I am right now, on the flat, with the hardest part to go. She meant well, I know. I told her I realise this, I do, but the temptation for me to jump and fall to the bottom feels awfully comforting, for the pain to end suddenly. My suicidal ideation creeps on so suddenly and unexpectedly. It is hard to know what to do with it.

So in the morning, I give my Dad some foreshadowing. “Hey Dad, I have something important I want to talk to you about later today”. Then we go to the iMax to watch two documentaries: one about Elephants, the next about T. Rex. Then we talk about the things that plague my dream states, my waking life, my soul, my being. What a perfect day.

We discussed having a pause button. I know parts of me want to share my story with him, the heinous stuff. I need a pause button, and so others need pause buttons as well. I know he’s not going to say much. He could surprise me. I think it’s important for me to recognise he doesn’t say much normally either.

We watched Torn by Max Lowe tonight together. It’s such a good documentary – highly recommended. It probably triggered a few things in me. I admire Max’s drive to film and tell their story. I loved so many aspects of the film. I am a serial movie ruiner so you’ll just have to see it yourself. I have this bold idea to reach out to him to ask him to film my story. I will put that on my vision board. He told his family’s story so well, and with so my heart. It is deeply healing from something so tragic. I’m vibrating hard from this idea.

I need to go and be with my heart.

Lots of love,

Kate