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  1. Hi, I'm terrified typing this. Was molested at a young age..... I always buried the pain. For years just dealt with the symptoms, like depression etc. I feel so alone, lost, aimless, and misunderstood. I've received sympathy from others, but not real empathy. I trust no one. I yearn for relationships but I'm terrified of them because I'm afraid to lose it. I feel utterly trapped, suffocating and drowning in the waters of all my suppressed pain. I hope I can get better, though doubtful.... Much more to say but keeping it a short intro. Thank you all so so much. I reall
  2. So...shit's been rough here. I started a post about it, but that's still a work in progress. It's like 10:30 at night and I just had some news about some pretty big schedule changes this whole week and I'm shaking. Nothing bad (the changes, that is), but I'm just legit that stressed out that something that'd normally not phase me is making me consider taking an anxiety med. So... Before that...today I was working on a couple of paintings. I kind of got lost in them. I'll post them below. I put a quarter on there to show the scale. I basically made flowers/succulents into mendala
  3. So, the past month has been kindof an exercise in how much stress I can handle. My niece and nephew started school. They have a hybrid model, so they are home two days/week and in person three days. At first I was super concerned about them being exposed to other kids at school and bringing home whatever cold is going around. But now I'm kinda at the point where I just need a break. They have just absolutely forgotten a whole bunch of social skills and somewhere in the last 6 months they just quit caring what I think. Like where I used to just be able to give a disapproving look, now
  4. So, I grabbed my bag that was next to the door and headed to my sister's car. (For full backstory, read the previous post - #20) I had had a few seconds to throw my wallet, sketchbook, a few pads, pencils and liner pens, and water bottle in a little bag. After the first epi shot they had me on an iv bag and the nurse said she'd be checking on me off and on. The iv bag would take about an hour, and sorry there's no tv. Lol. I hadn't even noticed. I asked if she minded if I drew and could she pls hand me my sketchbook? It started as a sketch of the oxygen monitor clipped to m
  5. My head, The pain. My chest, The strain. My eyes, The game. My thoughts, The drain. There, What's that sound? Here, I wanna drown. Thoughts, Just wanna play. Games, Gonna stay. Memories, Through the day. Punishment, You must pay. Words, They're gonna say. Things, Once made. Sounds, Not to fade. School, Lots of grades. Home, Chaotic parade.
  6. RubyRosie

    19 - PTSD

    So, I've had ptsd for a while now. Since the accident 9 years ago. I was moving when I got hit from behind. Like all my stuff was packed I. The back of my truck. And then my whole life just exploded. For a long time I thought my brain was broken. Like wtf was wrong with me that I could survive so much. So much neglect, abuse, just all the shit. All the very personal, directed at me shit. But a random asshole from outta nowhere hits me and my brain starts to crumble? Like it was so impersonal. Random as fuck. Why is THIS the thing that breaks my brain? And so I felt like that for
  7. So, it's been a few days, almost a week really, since my last venting via blog. I was feeling so much like I am failing my niece and nephew. Like the stress of all of this getting to me and why can't it just be like when they were little. When they were preschool age it was easy to motivate them. I had fuckin energy to spare. Wtf happened!?! Just really judging the eff outta myself, ya know? But, here's the thing... I'm not the same person I was back then, and neither are they. I have been getting down on myself for not being able to somehow replicate a whole team of teachers an
  8. I just woke up from a "nap" (I fell asleep at 6, woke up at 9:30) feeling incredibly sad. I went in to my roommates bed and laid down next to him and told him I was feeling depressed and he asked me why but I found myself having trouble communicating, which happens often for me. I told him I wasn't sure why I was feeling that way but I think I have a pretty good idea of why. A lot of has happened in this last week. In my prior posts I talked about staying at my moms, at my roommates (ex boyfriends) request but I came home on Monday and now I am back in my apartment. First, I found it hard to a
  9. 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. I feel bad because it’s nothing against anyone and it’s so irrational to feel like In regular day to da
  10. Via

    Nope

    This year has really just sucked. This week in particular has really just dumped it on. We are in the US and I know we are one of the last ones to implement changes to combat this virus, but they announced yesterday that our schools will be closed until at least April 14th. This is fine, but our jobs still exist so it's a fun little game we are playing trying to organize everything. It's necessary, I agree with the restrictions and they should probably be tighter, but it's very stressful. It feels like we are living in a dream. I also had a mammogram last week, a follow up from one I had
  11. My ex and I called off our wedding nearly two years ago. Before I met her I truly believed that I would never be able to have an intimate relationship. With her help I moved forward and I had hopes and plans for my future instead of looking back on my past. I'd learned to manage my triggers. Then everything came crashing down. For once, it had nothing to do with my past trauma and I think that almost made it worse. My entire future was planned around one person. Believe me, I know that's not healthy but at the time it didn't matter because I'd convinced myself that's what you did when you got
  12. Hello! This is my first time writing on a forum, so I hope I don't sound too much like a newbie! According to my therapist and life experiences, I have a severe case of complex trauma.***So Trigger Warning*** I was raped and sexually abused starting at a young age and leading into my early 20's by people who I trusted, for a span of probably 15 years, but was never believed (victim-blamed) by friends, family, my church, and the school I was attending. To say the least, I had no desire to live and no one cared. Carrying these burdens while trying to manage daily life struggles a
  13. Notice: Deliberately vague in specific areas for the purpose of anonymnity where you may find yourself in similar situations I received a phone call later in the evening on Thursday asking if I'd participate in our normal Friday evening activities. Would I be willing... That I cannot handle at the moment, because I do not have a full grasp of the ancient language fluidly enough not to freeze in front of everybody. I'm easing into this which under normal circumstances is out of everyone's comfort zones. It's not at all that I'm a perfectionist - we have a tendency to critique the deliv
  14. Everything I do is pointless. I can hear sirens screaming from the streets outside. Whirling past my house-back and forth. All night. Every night. Most nights I can't help but wish they were for me. Not because anything awful was done to me-- God knows I don't want that again. But because I finally did something awful to myself. That for once I did something that wasn't. I could do a million things. And I would never change. I could be the polar opposite of what I am now and I would still hate myself. I just can't help it. And to work to fix it just feels irrelevant. Inconsequentia
  15. So... Friday night, my boyfriend and I went to the movie theater for the 9pm showing of Deadpool 2. The theater is in our town, which made it a convenient location. We went in to our theater, and as we were looking for the seats, I saw my former best friend's brother. M. He was also a former best friend... As we walked by their aisle and towards the back, I gripped the back of my boyfriend's shirt. We got into an aisle and took our seats, and my boyfriend turned around and looked at me. "What's the matter?" I could only stare at the back of his head. I just felt overwhelmingly hurt a
  16. I've always imagined what my life would be like if I were never raped. I made a list, once. I wrote down every single thing I wish I was, that I knew be if that never happened. And then I wrote down everything I was because of it. It was a long list. I felt disgusted with myself and who I have become. I thought of the people in my life who are happy and optimistic. I thought about how envious I was of their ability to see the good in people and the good in life. I looked in the mirror and just felt disgusted with myself. I was disgusted with who I had become. I'm so pessimistic and negat
  17. Sometimes, I still feel like that child. That scared shitless kid hiding in a closet, hoping that all of this will end. Waiting for the yelling to stop and for the threat to go away. Hoping that this won't happen again. That I'll be okay and that I can just go about my life normally like I did before all of this began. Deep down, I'm still that 11 year old girl who feels the hope depleting from their spirit. Who feels the light drain from their life. She's still there. When most people look at me, they see a growing woman. Someone who's "going places" in life. And when I tell them I'm mo
  18. For many years, I fought my battles alone. I barricaded myself with the idea that I did need anyone else to get what I was going through. In my mind, every other person was just an intruder. Almost as if letting someone else in was like opening my doors wide open to some kind of attack. I felt like I would have been more vulnerable than Poland during WWII. Germany would invade, and I would be left defenseless. However, every country needs allies and every person-- a friend. Although I technically still had people in my life, it wasn't much of a support system. Mostly because I didn
  19. The days go by. Slowly. One by one. Life travels sometimes at what feels like a snail's pace. Everyday is just another trial of what I can really get through. Or another test of whether or not I can make it. Some days, I wake up and I won't to put a bullet in my head. Getting up feels impossible. Survival feels improbable. I have a hard time seeing any reason to be alive anymore. I feel hopeless. Worthless. Like a shell of a human being. I'm not who I used to be. I'm nothing like who I used to be. I used to be happy and full of life. Now, though, I'm scared and constantly wanting to disa
  20. cirrus

    Anxiety Shakes

    Today I had to call my insurance company to sort out some claims they denied. They denied them because they didn't have the information about my last insurance policy to verify that it ended. There's some paperwork going out to get them that info, and then the claims should be approved. It was OK as phone calls go - mostly just answering questions as asked. But I've always struggled with phone calls, and by the time I hung up I was ice cold, shaking, nauseated, and breaking out in cold sweats. I couldn't sit still for hours after. Maybe next week this'll be sorted out and I can call
  21. I had a meltdown a couple of weeks ago. The day had started out ok I thought. Well, except for the fact that I was getting over a bad migraine from the night before and wasn't feeling so good. I've had someone describe it as a "migraine hangover". I've never gotten drunk before, so not sure how it compares to that kind of hangover, but I know what I experience isn't pleasant. Anyway, back to my story. I was at college, which I am really enjoying, and was attending a workshop on test anxiety. I usually do ok when taking a test, but I do struggle with anxiety and thought it would be
  22. DISCLAIMER: I do go into a little bit of detail about my intimacy with my ex boyfriend. It was always sweet, loving, non abusive, and consensual, but still, just want to give a warning! Hello everyone! So in case anyone needs to read a juicy excerpt of young adult relationship drama, look no further than this post right here! Hmm, but in all seriousness, I was and still am super emotional about my problems with my relationship. And I was just having anxious thoughts, not pertaining to the relationship, but to this anxiety that I am getting so tired of!! I though
  23. To believe that everyone cares and to find out that they really don't care is the worst way to feel. It's the worst feeling in the world. And you sit at home contemplating how your life even got to be a mess. You sit at your glass table by your laptop, attempting to spill your heart out - Although, this blog posting may only get one read or two. Reason why, because I'm that invisible girl that everyone knows me for. I'm that girl that can be easily passed by on the streets and everyone would assume she's okay when she's not. I'm that girl that has been through an incredible amount of pain and
  24. So starting this month I've been on one dose of Wellbutrin right when I wake up and two doses four hours apart of Adderall, each per day. I've noticed I get really anxious and depressed if I am alone after my second dose wears off. Some nights almost suicidal. Two weeks ago over the weekend meds wore off and I got so anxious and hopeless that I self harmed for the first time in years. The next morning I had to have someone talk me out of committing suicide (as in, I was seriously considering it but I worded it to them that I was just triggered and tempted to self harm) and walk me through some
  25. I don't know the first thing about writing a blog. All I know is I survived. There is more of me broken than functional - but something small, somewhere inside me persists that that will not always be the case. So here I am, writing about it. (For all intents and purposes, and I still wan't nothing to do with them, my abuser will be called "X") I was with someone, who didn't care. I was with SEVERAL someones who didn't care, at least about me. However, this one in particular had brought me lower than I have ever been. We met under incredibly ordinary circumstances, nowhere I would c
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