You want to protect those around you...

...but what happens when you're the one who needs protecting?

I find I'm writing this entry reluctantly, but also think I need to try and decipher how I'm feeling. How I've felt for the last week or so. Also note, if selections of bits in here don't make sense...remember this is me trying to decipher thoughts and emotions in my head.

My last counselling session highlighted the fact that I live perpetually trying to protect people...from their own troubles or from mine.
Yet this time, I'm the one who needs help and protecting.

So far, from my point of view, since this started, I've lived in a bubble of medical instability and health visits and, on a sub-conscious level, I'm desperately trying to keep others out of this bubble. I'm happy for them to accompany me as I go through this experience, but find I want to fight hell and high water to prevent them from actually joining me in the bubble.
I'm in control and know how to deal with it. If others join me, then there's a chance they'll get hurt and I can't control that.
I have a number of people telling me to open up and realise that I'm not a burden to them. But if I feel like a burden to myself, then how am I not a burden to those around me.
I saw my parents yesterday to get my hair cut followed by tea, cake and a chat with mum and mentioned the whole burden dilemma. She stated that it's not a burden if the people WANT to look after you. If they want to care for you and make sure you're ok.
The voice in my mind mouthed wordlessly, trying to gain some argument against this. But it didn't work.
What she said made sense.

Now, as the bubble opens, this is a whole new level of 'protection' people are giving me (not just a simple 'how are you' or pat on the back when I need it). And therefore, the wolfhound hidden behind the door is waking up. It wants to protect them from what I'm encountering so as soon as I find myself in a more sensitive, vulnerable position because I'm accepting more direct help, it can become aggressive.
And if that aggression towards protecting someone else is still fresh, it unfortunately tends to hit others in passing too.
The wolfhound has two reactions: I leash it and I find humour in the matter, laughing things off as silly whilst pulling it backwards, or it escapes and snaps. I try and make the former happen and leash the hound as the latter just isn't fair. And I know this.

I also hate hurting people. I really do. So when I have to take decisions which might hurt them, it gets to me.
Which is why the whole paired pooling thing terrifies me.
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Huh
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Before I started writing this, I was sat here in complete quiet. The only noises were the ticking clock and the fish tank trickling. Yet it felt like I was sat in the middle of a noisy hub. Everything I read, everything I looked at seemed exaggerated and graphic in my head. I had my own entertainment system up there. And couldn't shut it off.

I've just realised that that's no longer the case.

Yes I'm aware there's meditation, but I used to use swimming for that.
I've neglected going swimming for a while now. I tend to be reluctant to go swimming when I'm working as I tend to have early calls and can't face exercise before going to a job in case swimming calls on me getting more sleep opportunities and food than shoots can offer.
So I haven't exercised in a month. Great for work and money. Not so much for exercise.

That's changing next week. I really really miss swimming. It's one of the few times I'm actually forced to meditate.