My words are harsh, I throw them at her quick and fast. She throws them back, leaving us in a never ending knotted argument. We get so messy, we end up making our sessions together so complicated, so unnecessarily, it's such a shame, to end up feeling in a real muddle. I become an exaggerated version of ugly. It's a swelling storm.
So here is an open apology to my Social Worker. Because believe me she deserves one.
Dear J,
I apologise for my sharp claws and viscous words. I apologise that every time I am with you, I become spiteful, I apologise for turning into something that is so far from my true self. You seem to be able to access the section of my mind that feels threatened and I still don't understand how you do that.
I just need a little time to show you I'm worth it, I know that I can be a difficult person. You don't deserve it. I tell you I'm going to break soon and every time I do, I say something that hurts you, blaming it on the feeling that I'm gone, but we both know I'm in the same room, so I look at you and tell you I'd be better alone. Being afraid, getting distant, pushing you away.
Thoughts creep in and linger that I'm the definition of faulty; if you were to look into my soul. The bitterness comes out when I feel I'm in a vulnerable place. I make a lot of mistakes I wish I knew how to erase. Inside this olive skin are paper thin Illusions that I'm tougher than I am. And I'm guarded, castle walls from all the falls which become the birth place of mistakes.
I didn't mean to try and hurt you. But no matter the case, I'm going to do whatever it takes to make the wrong right.
You tell me don't cry, hold your head up high. Game face. We want the same ending, I don't want us to fight. I hope you're buckled in for the ride. We should be having the time of our lives.
So here is an open apology to my Social Worker. Because believe me she deserves one.
Dear J,
I apologise for my sharp claws and viscous words. I apologise that every time I am with you, I become spiteful, I apologise for turning into something that is so far from my true self. You seem to be able to access the section of my mind that feels threatened and I still don't understand how you do that.
I just need a little time to show you I'm worth it, I know that I can be a difficult person. You don't deserve it. I tell you I'm going to break soon and every time I do, I say something that hurts you, blaming it on the feeling that I'm gone, but we both know I'm in the same room, so I look at you and tell you I'd be better alone. Being afraid, getting distant, pushing you away.
Thoughts creep in and linger that I'm the definition of faulty; if you were to look into my soul. The bitterness comes out when I feel I'm in a vulnerable place. I make a lot of mistakes I wish I knew how to erase. Inside this olive skin are paper thin Illusions that I'm tougher than I am. And I'm guarded, castle walls from all the falls which become the birth place of mistakes.
I didn't mean to try and hurt you. But no matter the case, I'm going to do whatever it takes to make the wrong right.
You tell me don't cry, hold your head up high. Game face. We want the same ending, I don't want us to fight. I hope you're buckled in for the ride. We should be having the time of our lives.
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