Okay, here's what I'm going to do.

I have T THREE (yes, 3) times this week. Today at 3, tomorrow at 3, and Thursday at 9. It feels scary. Scary, scary, scary. I can feel my teen pushing at me, HARD, and i'm afraid she's going to take my session today and it's going to be...blah. I have so many grown up things I want to deal with. And the 8 year old crap. And, and, and.

Anyhow, my son (7) starts ice skating lessons today at 5:30. So I decided to take ALL of my boys to the rink, and we are going to use a gift card from Christmas to go out to a restaurant afterward (H is out of town). Eating out is a VERY RARE thing for us - usually only for birthdays - so it will be a big treat for them, and I won't have to cook.

Then tomorrow, I found out it's homeschool day at the ice rink from 10 - 12, so I am going to take all 3 of them (and me) ice skating in the morning. Then we'll do some school (we're doing testing this week) and I'll have T at 3.

I haven't thought about the rest of the week, but I am hoping that somehow, having these big, fun, different things planned will somehow make it easier to transition out of the place I have to go to for therapy. Or if I can't transition as well as I want to, maybe my younger parts will be happy about the fun stuff we're doing.

I can't believe I am seeing T today. I am so embarrassed because I had such a hard weekend, left these SOBBING messages, sent a super vulnerable e-mail. It just feels...embarrassing. Ack.

Here is the part of the e-mail I'm so embarrassed about:

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i am scared and sad, more than i have words for. please please please don't let me push you away. please don't leave me. please stick with me during this hard part. i'm so scared it will be too much for you. please try to understand me when i'm not making sense. please know that this is the most fragile, lost place for me to be. please believe that it can get better, that *I* will get better. please hold hope for me. please help me light a candle so this stuff isn't so dark and murky. please help me look at it. let me be sad. help me be angry. please love 8, and me, and even teen because she has worked so hard for so long. my inner world is being deconstructed a bit...please help me pick up the pieces. Just....please.

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OMG. 90 minutes.