She held me

It's been awhile. I've been pretty sick the last few weeks. It started with headaches and weakness for about two weeks. That turned into laryngitis for two and a half weeks. I finally got my voice back today. Two and a half weeks without being able to really talk was torture on many levels, although it was nice to have a valid reason to not talk to family members. But seriously, four therapy sessions without really being able talk was rather difficult. Last Thursday she didn't let me talk at all and we did exercises with my body. And then Monday I woke up in horrible pain in my left lower stomach. I had to get a CT scan and turns out I have diverticulitis. I can't remember the last time I took antibiotics and now I've been on three in the space of six days. Let's not make this a trend.

But today I've finally gotten my voice back. All the way back. My stomach still hurts a little but but it isn't horrible. I can function and move. I might even try eating a more normal diet tomorrow. I've been trying to do the liquid diet the doctor wants me to do but that is so hard and leaves me so hungry. I had a baked potato with my soup at lunch today which seemed fine. And then at dinner there was salad and being a good vegan I couldn't stand seeing yummy veggies and so caved and had some. I guess I'll see what happens as they digest.

But now to turn the subject to why I'm writing this tonight. There was a small group at my church tonight. Of the people who were there tonight two know the entire story, DID and all. One of those is the minister. Two others know of the abuse and PTSD everything else but not the DID. The last woman knows none of those details. We were talking about love tonight. One of the tangents was on whether we aspired to love the entire human race without exception. Who is worthy or unworthy of love?

I started crying at some point which I was OK with. I'm used to crying in front of people. I'm a crier. I even cry when I'm mad. But I thought I was going to throw up and so left and went and sat in the bathroom. My minister came and found me which I felt bad about because she was leading the group. She came and sat on the floor with me and held me. She held me and hugged me.

I need to repeat and bold that last sentence because of how much it means to me. She held me and she hugged me. She got down on the floor with me and held me, hugged me, and let me cry like no one ever has before. People let me cry but she held me. No one has ever held me and hugged me when I've cried. Then she asked if she could pray with/for me and I agreed. She put her hands on mine or on my head, I can't remember now. I think she put her hands on mine and I put my head on her hands. And when that was too hard for me and I pulled away she just went with me and continued holding me.

I didn't want to go back to the group right away but she got me to go back. I cried more there and still felt sick but it was OK. I stayed around a bit after the group ended and played with her kids a bit. Everyone pretty much left in a group. I'm feeling a bit triggered and unsettled and don't want to sleep right now.

I was held and hugged. I was loved tonight.