my healing journey

Archive for the ‘trauma’ Category

Why me?

I want to stuff my face into a pillow and not wake up.

I want to jump in front of a train and end it all.

I want to stop eating so that my body breaks down and can’t function

I want to rot away in bed and hide from the world

I want my pain to end. But I don’t want to end.

I want to function but I don’t know how

I want to get a chainsaw and hack my abusers to pieces

I want to kick the shit out of their heads and stomp all over their bodies

I want to put several bullets in their skulls

I want them to feel an ounce of the torment that I feel

That I will feel for the rest of my life

I don’t know how to handle all these emotions

The suffocation

The never ending film of trauma playing in my head over and over

Day after day

Never ending

Why me?

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Failure to relax

It feels as if each day is the same. A constant repetition. I will go to sleep late attached to my laptop, wake up around 7am, force myself to sleep – constantly waking up every hour or so until it’s 1/2/3 pm. Feel shit. Miss sunlight- then all of a sudden it’s nightime again. My sleep doesn’t relax me. I don’t wake up in the morning feeling refreshed. I feel shit.

I can’t relax. I can’t remember the last time in ears that I felt relaxed. I don’t relax during sex. I don’t relax whilst I drink. I don’t relax whilst smoking weed. It’s like my body has forgotten how to do it. I learnt it’s one of the factors of PTSD, always being hyper-vigilant. I don’t want this anymore. It feels like my brain and my body don’t know that they are no longer in danger. If I want to chill out my brain will remind me of all the reasons why I cannot. My body holds it. I have chronic pain. I’m not surprised that I snapped – there is only so long a person can hold on to all the nervous energy and tension without going crazy.

Maybe tomorrow will be different. Maybe I won’t wake up mid afternoon and reproduce the cycle I’ve been in for the past few months. Maybe I will force myself out of bed instead of trying to force myself back into a restless sleep that contains more and more distressing dreams and nightmares.

Dreams of me breaking down and crying – at least in my dreams I have some sort of release, I don’t have the luxury of being able to cry in real life. I cannot remember the last time I let all my feelings flow out through tears, I miss it.

I’m tired of the mental and physical pain and it’s no release. I’m tired of not wanting to be awake. I’m tired of not feeling there is a way out. I just want to relax if only for a few minutes, to forget my troubles and anxieties. To be normal if only for a while.

patience

i didn’t manage to make it to my martial arts class today, i’m just wrecked by the time i reach the weekend, hopefully this will get better. managed to wake up before evening time today which is an achievement, hopefully will be able to get some work in and eat properly.

i was told that this journey gets easier and you learn how to deal with the feelings better. right now i feel as if i’m dead and there’s no point in opening up and trusting anyone because they all end up leaving you anyway

keep having dreams about those i try to reach out to turning their backs on me and leaving me, also had another dream where i think i was holding hands with myself and running down and endless flight of stairs pushing past all the people who were obstacles in my way and after what seemed like an eternity we made it out of the door and outside.

maybe it will be worth it.

Stones

I had a dream last night that I was drinking water and the water turned into stones whilst I was swallowing it.

And I was choking on the stones.

I’m choking on my memories.

I’m scared of sleeping.

And I hate these fucking dreams.

Aside

My Confessions

I have a lot to write about. I sat down and I made a list of all the things which were bothering me when I was trying to study.

About how I always keep my mouth shut for the sake of sparing others but then these people never seem to be there for me.

about how I’m bitter and twisted due the fact my own mother couldn’t support me, yet I hid pills from her when she threatened to kill herself and I was the one who has to witness all the destruction in my family that my parents caused, and look after my siblings and protect them and when the time came when I was the one in need she fucked off.

How i spent so many years when i was younger trying to be other people. literally making notes and trying to become them because I wanted so badly to get away from myself, but i can’t do that, I can’t run away from myself because I’m always here. I can’t run away from my mind. You can’t outrun your shadow or your past. You can try to forget but it will always come back to haunt you.

I thought about my strange behaviour in relationships. How I WANT to become obsessed with people, and make them the centre of my life and focus entirely on them , and fix them. BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO FIX MYSELF. Where I get so involved that I just end up hurting myself because I attract people who want to leach off me.

How I’m scared of change, but I have to change because I have no choice. I can[‘t stay here in this spot, because I will literally become nothing and I won’t be alive, I’ll be a parasite sucking on the life and successes of others and tainting it with bitterness because I’m so miserable inside myself.

I listen to a lot of metal because they do the screaming that I can’t do myself. They scream and writhe for me.

I look in disgust at my own reasoning. the way I can sympathise with the guy who raped me and his friend who watched. Maybe they didn’t know they were doing anything wrong? So why did they put a blindfold on me and why did they jump up when someone opened the door? Why did they jump back when I shouted out and saw the blood on my underwear? Why were they so nice? Did they pre plan this? I came to them asking for help because I wanted to learn a different language, and they responded by taking my trust and twisting it up for their own sexual pleasure.

Why did my family prefer to ‘keep the peace’ instead of outing the guys for the rapists that they were. since when did your honour and standing in the community become more important than your blood relatives? I don’t have a family any more. I’ve apparently been disowned. they can all fuck themselves.

I can’t be friends with a guy or meet a guy without thinking that he wants to use me for sex and that I somehow owe him something. I used to act on this until about a year ago, when i realised that no, actually I don’t want to fuck every guy I know and that I don’t have to get sexual with someone because they have a penis. I don’t need to ‘beat them to it’ by providing it on a plate.

Mental treadmill

I wish I could package everything that’s hurting me right now, everything that I’m worrying about and bundle it away and just forget about it. How is it possible for my brain to run over so many different things at once, over and over and over again? It’s like being on a wheel that doesn’t let up.

 

would you like an audience?

Today has been a tough day. I feel like I’ve gone up and down an emotional rollercoaster- so many feelings : anxiety, stress, happiness, shock, horror, disbelief, grief, revenge, bitterness, confusion and now I’m just numb and blank and my head hurts.

But I’m not here to rant and wallow in self-pity.

I keep getting this sudden urge to vomit and cry. I can cry but I can’t vomit. I can feel the bile build up but the vomit won’t come out. I want to be sick. Physically and mentally.

I always used to wonder what it would be like to go crazy. Sort of romanticised it , in the way peole build a love affair with the idea of death. You dress it up, not thinking about the negative points but only the blissful peace. or what you imagine to be peace.

I’m sorry. I want to apologise for what happened to me, the little girl i was 7 years ago , because nobody else will apologise for what happened. and when people offer their condolences it doesn’t matter because it’s not you who needs to apologise, it’s them.

I can still see one of them smiling .. smiling, joyful , gleeful even. not because they were doing something wrong, no because it was this new and exciting experience to have. a ringside seat. that look that you get when something is just so great you’re just gob smacked that you’ve been let in on it.

What kind of sick person watches his friend rape a 7 year old and sits there gleefully like a naughty boy who got the last of the chocolate?

I’d never actually remembered his facial expression until now..

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