I feel like I’m further along In my sexual assault journey but there are still some days my ptsd gets the better of me.
last week at work two male supervisors had come into the restroom I was cleaning at work and where talking with me. Little do they know it had caused a panic attack. I don’t like feeling cornered by a man or men. It freaks me out. After they left I had to take some time to breath and just focus on work . I reminded myself I was safe and soon after I felt much better.
This is a journal entry I have held private from posting to my blog for the past few weeks. It is extremely embarrassing, nauseating, and upsetting to write about. However, the body memories and flashback became so vivid that I needed to release it. My T says, the more I suppress or hide experiences like this, the more power I am giving my shame. So here it is.
A couple of months ago, if you asked me about my relationship with my art teacher FM, I would have said he was smart and
So 1 night of 6 straight hours of sleep is all I get? Weeks of of getting 2-3 hours a day and 1 night is all I get. This is bordering on crazy. I am falling asleep on my lunch at work. Today I fell asleep on a conference call. It was less than 10 mins but it doesnt look good.
I have been trying to be less focused on the negative. I hoped this would free my mind to relax. I am not trying to avoid anything just lessen the control the negative mindset has over me. Acknowledging I am not doing
Writing out these thoughts has been tough, not just because I'm finally coming to terms with a part of my childhood I forso long hoped would just disappear, but I'm having trouble putting it down in words. And I know that at some future date when I am comfortable with the idea of sharing this blog's contents with Ls and Lb, I don't want to hurt them more. Even now, all these years later, I'm trying to shield them from the pain my csa may cause them. I know I'm not responsible for it. I cannot co
My father died 5 years ago and yet he continues to effect my life.
I guess a brief recap is needed for this to make sense
My mother died in January 1971.
My father remarried in September 1971
From the first time my sister met our stepmother until her death 2 years ago; my sister was disrespectful and didn't make any effort to have any kind of relationship My oldest brother and sister saw my parents for about an hour 3 times a year.
My younger and I made an effo
Sometimes all the therapy, self care, learning to see things differently...feels like a waste. My therapist asked me where I could be myself. I realized I’m not even myself some times when I’m alone. I can’t let my guard down with myself. Faking it till I make it isn’t gona work tho.
I've been writing this blog for a while now and I have a few observations. Some were expected, others surprising.
Occasionally (either while I'm just thinking about what to write or, much less often, while I'm actually writing,) when something happens that reminds me of mychildhood - a smell, a sound, etc) I burst into tears, reminded of how I felt as a kid. It's been happening several times a week. This usually only lasts a few minutes. I feel profoundly sad for the young RR. It's like
My therapist is saying it’s important to change the picture after I get all the bad stuff on paper. It's hard to think of positive things and feels like a waste of time since my reality isn’t changing. I’m hoping these small things add up tho.
I've had a rough couple of days.
I had Covid for the entire month of May. I've started feeling better; and then I woke up Monday morning barely able to move. My back hurts, pain radiates around my body and into my chest. My ribs hurt, I have pain going into my arms and my legs. I cant take a deep breath, I cant talk very long, or stand up or sit down or I get really bad chest and back pain.
I've had issues with my spine for the last 10 years. I've had 2 neck surgeries and 1 lower back
Some days the intangible losses hurt worse than the physical act. Those things people cant see but you still feel. Those things that you usually ignore because the physical is easier to explain.
Yeah, those losses cant be measured so easily. And they are harder to explain to others. I just want to get back what I lost.
Just thoughts... feeling lonely. Don't know of it's my fault or my partner's. Maybe we're just incompatible.
He works all the time I know. Im at home since covid. But i feel:
... so many uns!!!!!!
So what AM I?
- caring (too caring)
- accommodating (too accommodating??)
- pissed off!!!!!!!!!
- almost at the e
I keep trying to write something but none of it feels right. If feels forced. It feels required. It feels censored. Today I dont want to feel any of those things. Just know, I am not OK. I am not fine. I am not managing. I am hanging on by a thin thread most days. Stretched well beyond what I thought possible.I reached out and then pulled back. Why? Who knows. Because that is what I do. Because the help didnt feel like help.
This specific incident was the second isolated, physical encounter I had with the person who sexually abused me.
I was staying after for math help Because I really, really needed help with it...I decided to also ask him to help with the one thing I needed help with for a project in his class since it was the end of the semester project- not ever thinking he would try anything sexual IN school while there were other students and teachers around.
When I went up to his class it was so nonc
Why are we the ones going thru Hell when it’s not our fault?
How do I live with what I know?
How long can I pretend to be ok before I have a serious mental breakdown?
Do things ever really get better or do we just tell ourselves they will?
What’s the point of being “aware” and facing everything if it just makes me feel worse?
How did I end up the one in this situation?
What is the overall reason or purpose or is there even one?
Why is no one on my side?
Windows have come to be a prominent part of my life. I don't mean physical windows, no no, but the windows that guide me through the motions of every day life. I feel that my life is spent behind lenses, and not just my glasses. It's difficult to explain but I feel that these windows can be both good and bad for me.
Sometimes, the window is clear. My brain wants me to see the reality of what is happening and what has happened. Sometimes I like it, and sometimes I don't. Sometimes I like rem
I wrote a first draft of this earlier in a blog I keep hidden as a mental and emotional release. I was ashamed of what happened and have felt guilty thinking I was to blame for having frozen when forced, and being much older than the guy this happened with. I had no idea what to call this. However, I think I am ready to break the silence on this. So here it goes…
My younger sister had just gotten married, and I was ready to get away after being engulfed in all the planning. I was