Posting on my blog has been difficult for me of late. The same can be said for a survivor support forum i regularly use. I remember a time when i would reach out all the time! Post whatever is running through my mind in hope for some support from a kind stranger. Its getting harder and harder to reach out. The only person i am truly honest with is my therapist...in fact even that is a lie, i'd say I'm 80% honest with her. I lie to everyone now.
'How are you doing?'
'Yeah I'm okay thanks, how are you?' - Why is it so damn hard to just tell the truth!
I get so frustrated with the people who are aware of what's going on with me, they often just accept that answer and ask no more questions. I feel like they should know I'm not okay, they should know when i don't want to talk, and when in fact i'd like to but perhaps scared to bring it up incase of bringing a downer to the conversation. I know i can't expect people to be psychic but i'd like to think at least the people in my life who know me well, know enough to know when i am not okay!
I guess what's got me thinking about this, is my anniversary. 11 month anniversary. Tomorrow.
I am dreading the stroke of midnight on my clock-face.
Each time i don't know how I'm going to get through the day. Things would be so much easier, so much more peaceful if when i went to sleep...i never awoke the next morning. The hardest thing about tomorrow is knowing its my last 'month' anniversary. The next one is one year. One Year. I know for sure i can't survive this one. The week before my family are going away to Spain, they will be back for the 23rd but (and i'd never admit this to them) I'm scared of them leaving in the approaching week. Because I'm scared of what i may be capable of doing. My mum has been begging me to try to find some money to go with them, i know this is because she is afraid to leave me alone.
If anyone has any advice on how to get through the month of October and the 23rd, please let me know. I'm drowning here.
.....Wake me up when October ends.....
Showing posts with label Mental Health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mental Health. Show all posts
Thursday, 22 September 2011
Wednesday, 31 August 2011
Running. Masks. Despair
Recently had another wave of depression swoop over me, leaving my blog a little neglected the past week.
Went away over the weekend to Wales, to a little town i have visited every year since i was a baby. In fact its the 3rd time i've been this year and im going back again in a couple of weeks. Its really my second home, i often dream of running away from my city with all its reminders and abuser ever present lurking somewhere in these city streets. Running far far away to my little quiet village in wales where no body knows my history, knows what im running from. Where there is no fear of running into 'him'. I wish it was a possibility.
I thought that getting away might lift this depression slightly, but it hasn't. I have come back feeling as a low as over. I can't seem to shake that as of tomorrow it will be September the 1st - the month i met my abuser. After that will be October - the month 'it' happened, one year ago. Im not sure how i am going to get through this.
I have no therapy this week as my therapist is in court all week. Its scary how much i rely on these weekly meetings, that one hour (sometimes two) every week where i can take off my mask, and be the girl who is suffering to survive after her rape. The rest of the time i am the girl who is 'ok' after surviving a bad trauma. I get so tired of wearing this mask. Its an exhausting week knowing i don't have that one hour outlet to verbally puke out all the thoughts swimming in my head and have them listened to and receiving a supportive response.
Like i said, its scary how much i depend on my therapist. On that hour.
Till next week i guess im stuck to deal with this despair on my own.
Oh well....rant over....
.....time to put back on that smiling mask!
Went away over the weekend to Wales, to a little town i have visited every year since i was a baby. In fact its the 3rd time i've been this year and im going back again in a couple of weeks. Its really my second home, i often dream of running away from my city with all its reminders and abuser ever present lurking somewhere in these city streets. Running far far away to my little quiet village in wales where no body knows my history, knows what im running from. Where there is no fear of running into 'him'. I wish it was a possibility.
I thought that getting away might lift this depression slightly, but it hasn't. I have come back feeling as a low as over. I can't seem to shake that as of tomorrow it will be September the 1st - the month i met my abuser. After that will be October - the month 'it' happened, one year ago. Im not sure how i am going to get through this.
I have no therapy this week as my therapist is in court all week. Its scary how much i rely on these weekly meetings, that one hour (sometimes two) every week where i can take off my mask, and be the girl who is suffering to survive after her rape. The rest of the time i am the girl who is 'ok' after surviving a bad trauma. I get so tired of wearing this mask. Its an exhausting week knowing i don't have that one hour outlet to verbally puke out all the thoughts swimming in my head and have them listened to and receiving a supportive response.
Like i said, its scary how much i depend on my therapist. On that hour.
Till next week i guess im stuck to deal with this despair on my own.
Oh well....rant over....
.....time to put back on that smiling mask!
Saturday, 20 August 2011
Is this what crazy feels like?
Im not going to deny i can be pretty hyper-vigilant at times, given everything i have gone through i guess its understandable but tonight reached whole new levels of craziness! Maybe it's because of what happened at work yesterday i don't know, but tonight i became sure there was someone in the house.
I was sat in my room, talking to friends on the laptop, when i begin hearing noises downstairs. I brush it off as the wind, but it continues. Before long i hear a mans quiet voice. I freeze. I'm alone in the house.....what is that noise?
I assure myself that both doors are locked, that no one is downstairs and to stop being silly. But I am now listening intently, barely breathing, my heart beats faster as I deffinately now can hear male grunting and movements sounding like walking.
Thinking logically I think if someone was in the house they'd be stealing and making a lot more noise than that also they would know I was in and wouldn't they come upstairs! Both doors are locked, no no, no one could be in the house. It would be silly to call the police and waste their time....
But I continue hearing these noises, wind can't be in my living. I'm frozen stiff. I text my mum who is at work, she said she is finishing soon and will be home in half an hour. I try to calm down but I couldn't, kept continuously hearing a male voice and movement. My friends online kept tael ing me to call the police. I just didn't want to look stupid when they got here and no one was here! Then a big truck races down my street and parks near my drive with two men in the front. I've never seen this truck in my life. I'm now thinking is that what the burglar downstairs was waiting for. The noises downstairs get louder. I finally think fuck this, and call the police. Whispering down the phone I think there might be a man in my house. In less than 10 minutes a huge police van with 3 offices pulls up outside. The noises stopped.
I speak to them out my window, afraid to go downstairs. They say they can see no signs of entry and ask me to come open the door. Holding my breath I go downstairs.
Twat. Of course there is no one there!!
I open the door to the offices who come in and look round the whole house for me. Nothing. Oh my god I felt so stupid!! I told them I'd be listening to this noise for about Half an hour before I called them. Told them about the van.
Well they left, probably disappointed they didn't get to ambush some criminals. I apologised saying I wouldn't have called if I wasn't frightened and sure I could hear it. They said it was ok, they'd rather check and be sure there wasn't and that I was safe.
So they left. Leaving me with my embarrassment, craziness and thinking what on earth was that voice!! I hate the way being a survivor affects you :-(
Hearing a mans voice, movements, and getting out the police, I'm officially insane.
I was sat in my room, talking to friends on the laptop, when i begin hearing noises downstairs. I brush it off as the wind, but it continues. Before long i hear a mans quiet voice. I freeze. I'm alone in the house.....what is that noise?
I assure myself that both doors are locked, that no one is downstairs and to stop being silly. But I am now listening intently, barely breathing, my heart beats faster as I deffinately now can hear male grunting and movements sounding like walking.
Thinking logically I think if someone was in the house they'd be stealing and making a lot more noise than that also they would know I was in and wouldn't they come upstairs! Both doors are locked, no no, no one could be in the house. It would be silly to call the police and waste their time....
But I continue hearing these noises, wind can't be in my living. I'm frozen stiff. I text my mum who is at work, she said she is finishing soon and will be home in half an hour. I try to calm down but I couldn't, kept continuously hearing a male voice and movement. My friends online kept tael ing me to call the police. I just didn't want to look stupid when they got here and no one was here! Then a big truck races down my street and parks near my drive with two men in the front. I've never seen this truck in my life. I'm now thinking is that what the burglar downstairs was waiting for. The noises downstairs get louder. I finally think fuck this, and call the police. Whispering down the phone I think there might be a man in my house. In less than 10 minutes a huge police van with 3 offices pulls up outside. The noises stopped.
I speak to them out my window, afraid to go downstairs. They say they can see no signs of entry and ask me to come open the door. Holding my breath I go downstairs.
Twat. Of course there is no one there!!
I open the door to the offices who come in and look round the whole house for me. Nothing. Oh my god I felt so stupid!! I told them I'd be listening to this noise for about Half an hour before I called them. Told them about the van.
Well they left, probably disappointed they didn't get to ambush some criminals. I apologised saying I wouldn't have called if I wasn't frightened and sure I could hear it. They said it was ok, they'd rather check and be sure there wasn't and that I was safe.
So they left. Leaving me with my embarrassment, craziness and thinking what on earth was that voice!! I hate the way being a survivor affects you :-(
Hearing a mans voice, movements, and getting out the police, I'm officially insane.
Monday, 15 August 2011
Little Red
Little Red
There once was a girl full of hopes and dreams
Saw the world through pure eyes, complete at the seams.
Heart of gold,
Smile of an angel,
that anyone who tried to take was not able.
With sparkling blue eyes, believing good conquers evil,
Fairytales were reality, no one was deceitful.
Untill this girl turned twenty one, the promise of fairytales was soon gone.
The castle crumbled
the prince did not show
She tumbled into the dark rabbit hole below.
Little red, little red
Don't blame yourself
for all thats dead
his smiling lie
that wolf was cunning
from his evil your now running
Bleeding, wounded
Oh little red
Its not your fault
Its not your fault
Left with the destruction, red cape on the floor
Her heart understands, red is here no more.
The wolf walked free with all he took,
Shes nothing left to give
She curls into the darkness
She has no strength left to live
The castle's burning bright, this hole is six foot deep
At the bottom lies her secret, she feels she has to keep.
Settling for this world of grey,
shes afraid to to start the climb
Just wait, little red there is strength in your tears
Just breathe, one day,
You'll be okay.
Little red, little red
Don't blame yourself
for all thats dead
his smiling lie
that wolf was cunning
from his evil your now running
Bleeding, wounded
Oh little red
Its not your fault
Its not your fault
Friday, 12 August 2011
Lights, Camera....FACE!
I haven't spoken much about the events that brought me to blogger, or what happened on that fateful day. I have a hard time accepting the truth, it's kind of hard to write about when you feel like what your writing never happened. But tonight i find myself awake thinking of one moment. A moment that on the 23rd of October, maybe lasted less than 20 seconds. The moment i tried to escape from my attacker.
It's got me thinking about that moment in many horror movies where the girl, the victim, makes a break for it. Usually its a hot skinny blonde with ginourmous boobs, running in some scary woods wearing nothing but an oversized male shirt. The stereotypical murderer with some freaky-ass mask and terrifying weapon is lurking near by. Before she tries to escape she's normally hiding somewhere, trying to assess the situation, assess the amount of danger she is in. By this point she is afraid but not completely sure about what the hell is going on and just how much danger she is in. Amid the confusion something inside of her tells her there's a good chance she's going to get really hurt. Flight or fight mode kicks in, and typically, shes tries to escape....
....In that moment, she is grabbed from behind and pulled back. Always in movies the camera focus' on the girls face, never the attacker, always the victim. Because her face tells a thousands words, you can see the look in her eyes that she knows she is about to get hurt. That face can be pretty terrifying, more terrifying than the axe murderer in fact. Some actresses are pretty good at pulling this horrific 'face' off. I wonder if in real life anyone has ever caught on camera the real look of a person who is about to be pulled back. The look of the girl who knows what comes next.
In my story there is no ugly mask murderer, there are no woods, there is no fake boobed blonde bombshell. But there is the attempt of escape. Injuring myself as i tried to slip from his clutches. There is the moment i felt his hands grab my waist and pull me back and im pretty certain....there is that face.
No one knows what my face looked like, i couldn't see it, 'he' couldn't see it, there were no audience who could see it. I can't help but think about what it might have looked like.
My mum has often said to me that no one will ever truly understand the horrors of what happened to me on that day, in that room because no one else was there. If it were in a movie, would they be horrified? Would they be afraid for me? Would they cover there eyes with their hands whilst still peering through the gaps in their fingers so they don't miss what's happening? Would they understand better the trauma that consumes me each and every day? Perhaps they wouldn't find it that scary, i often minimise and invalidate my experience to myself maybe there is a reason why i do that, maybe it wasn't all that bad? There was no axe murderer, there was no weapons used, there was no blood curdling scream.
Is it strange that i sometimes feel the desire for people to see it, to see their reaction?
I guess this is me looking for validation again! A stage i can't seem to pass. I don't know how to begin accepting what has happened to me and validating to myself, that my experience WAS bad, that it WAS horrific and that i have every right to feel hurt and traumatised...
and most importantly, have the right to heal.
I don't think i will ever watch horror movies in the same way as i used to. I don't think i can ever forget the look upon their faces. THAT is where the horror in horror movies come from. Next time you watch a horror, don't fear the bad guy.....fear that face.
It's got me thinking about that moment in many horror movies where the girl, the victim, makes a break for it. Usually its a hot skinny blonde with ginourmous boobs, running in some scary woods wearing nothing but an oversized male shirt. The stereotypical murderer with some freaky-ass mask and terrifying weapon is lurking near by. Before she tries to escape she's normally hiding somewhere, trying to assess the situation, assess the amount of danger she is in. By this point she is afraid but not completely sure about what the hell is going on and just how much danger she is in. Amid the confusion something inside of her tells her there's a good chance she's going to get really hurt. Flight or fight mode kicks in, and typically, shes tries to escape....
....In that moment, she is grabbed from behind and pulled back. Always in movies the camera focus' on the girls face, never the attacker, always the victim. Because her face tells a thousands words, you can see the look in her eyes that she knows she is about to get hurt. That face can be pretty terrifying, more terrifying than the axe murderer in fact. Some actresses are pretty good at pulling this horrific 'face' off. I wonder if in real life anyone has ever caught on camera the real look of a person who is about to be pulled back. The look of the girl who knows what comes next.
In my story there is no ugly mask murderer, there are no woods, there is no fake boobed blonde bombshell. But there is the attempt of escape. Injuring myself as i tried to slip from his clutches. There is the moment i felt his hands grab my waist and pull me back and im pretty certain....there is that face.
No one knows what my face looked like, i couldn't see it, 'he' couldn't see it, there were no audience who could see it. I can't help but think about what it might have looked like.
My mum has often said to me that no one will ever truly understand the horrors of what happened to me on that day, in that room because no one else was there. If it were in a movie, would they be horrified? Would they be afraid for me? Would they cover there eyes with their hands whilst still peering through the gaps in their fingers so they don't miss what's happening? Would they understand better the trauma that consumes me each and every day? Perhaps they wouldn't find it that scary, i often minimise and invalidate my experience to myself maybe there is a reason why i do that, maybe it wasn't all that bad? There was no axe murderer, there was no weapons used, there was no blood curdling scream.
Is it strange that i sometimes feel the desire for people to see it, to see their reaction?
I guess this is me looking for validation again! A stage i can't seem to pass. I don't know how to begin accepting what has happened to me and validating to myself, that my experience WAS bad, that it WAS horrific and that i have every right to feel hurt and traumatised...
and most importantly, have the right to heal.
I don't think i will ever watch horror movies in the same way as i used to. I don't think i can ever forget the look upon their faces. THAT is where the horror in horror movies come from. Next time you watch a horror, don't fear the bad guy.....fear that face.
Friday, 5 August 2011
Music as a healing aid
I find music really helpful as a survivor, when i hear a song that really hits home, that i can really relate to. I love discovering new songs that put into words just how i am feeling. A friend of mine gave me a link to this song and told me to listen to the lyrics. I loved it. Here is the video and below i have posted the lyrics!
Skillet - "Hero"
I'm just a step away
I'm just a breath away
Losin' my faith today
(Fallin' off the edge today)
I am just a man
Not superhuman
(I'm not superhuman)
Someone save me from the hate
It's just another war
Just another family torn
(Falling from my faith today)
Just a step from the edge
Just another day in the world we live
[Chorus:]
I need a hero to save me now
I need a hero (save me now)
I need a hero to save my life
A hero'll save me (just in time)
I've gotta fight today
To live another day
Speakin' my mind today
(My voice will be heard today)
I've gotta make a stand
But I am just a man
(I'm not superhuman)
My voice will be heard today
It's just another war
Just another family torn
(My voice will be heard today)
It's just another kill
The countdown begins to destroy ourselves
[Chorus]
I need a hero to save my life
I need a hero just in time
Save me just in time
Save me just in time
Who's gonna fight for what's right
Who's gonna help us survive
We're in the fight of our lives
(And we're not ready to die)
Who's gonna fight for the weak
Who's gonna make 'em believe
I've got a hero (I've got a hero)
Livin' in me
I'm gonna fight for what's right
Today I'm speaking my mind
And if it kills me tonight
(I will be ready to die)
A hero's not afraid to give his life
A hero's gonna save me just in time
[Chorus]
I need a hero
Who's gonna fight for what's right
Who's gonna help us survive
I need a hero
Who's gonna fight for the weak
Who's gonna make 'em believe
I need a hero
I need a hero
A hero's gonna save me just in time
I'm just a step away
I'm just a breath away
Losin' my faith today
(Fallin' off the edge today)
I am just a man
Not superhuman
(I'm not superhuman)
Someone save me from the hate
It's just another war
Just another family torn
(Falling from my faith today)
Just a step from the edge
Just another day in the world we live
[Chorus:]
I need a hero to save me now
I need a hero (save me now)
I need a hero to save my life
A hero'll save me (just in time)
I've gotta fight today
To live another day
Speakin' my mind today
(My voice will be heard today)
I've gotta make a stand
But I am just a man
(I'm not superhuman)
My voice will be heard today
It's just another war
Just another family torn
(My voice will be heard today)
It's just another kill
The countdown begins to destroy ourselves
[Chorus]
I need a hero to save my life
I need a hero just in time
Save me just in time
Save me just in time
Who's gonna fight for what's right
Who's gonna help us survive
We're in the fight of our lives
(And we're not ready to die)
Who's gonna fight for the weak
Who's gonna make 'em believe
I've got a hero (I've got a hero)
Livin' in me
I'm gonna fight for what's right
Today I'm speaking my mind
And if it kills me tonight
(I will be ready to die)
A hero's not afraid to give his life
A hero's gonna save me just in time
[Chorus]
I need a hero
Who's gonna fight for what's right
Who's gonna help us survive
I need a hero
Who's gonna fight for the weak
Who's gonna make 'em believe
I need a hero
I need a hero
A hero's gonna save me just in time
Thursday, 4 August 2011
Mirror of Inspiration
I thought i'd take this opportunity to share with all of you my mirror of inspiration. This is my mirror in my bedroom which i have filled with my favourite quotes that fill me with strength, courage and inspire me to continue on this dark road we called 'healing' when i feel like giving up the most. I have enlarged the photo so you should be able to read some of them, however please note all of these quotes are featured in my favourite quotes section on the left hand side of my blog. I actually think this is an excellent tool and i read them every time i look in this mirror. I think it can help someone who is going through any sort of difficult time in their life. Perhaps my mirror of inspiration may inspire you do to the same :)
Please comment and share with us the quotes that inspire you!
Please comment and share with us the quotes that inspire you!
Tuesday, 26 July 2011
Acidic Deception
Acidic Deception
She speaks the words of betrayal
I cannot hear
I cannot see
The words bring confusion
It makes no sense
How can this be?
Seeking solace on the tiled floor
Why the bathroom gives me comfort
I cannot say
I am not sure
The words she spoke rise up in me
Come spilling out
Into the toilet
Acid burns the back of my throat
Time soon passes
I'm glued to the spot
I try to move, the bond is too strong
Eyes fixated on the same spot
In a trance from those twisted words
Mouth hangs open, still in surprise
Tongue runs dry
I feel nothing and yet,
I feel everything
The swirling vortex of crap inside me,
Hurricane insanity
Becomes too much to bare
The way to get off the bathroom floor,
becomes clear
A flash of silver
A trickle of red
One stroke
Two stroke
Three stroke
Four
I crave the pain,
But it's there no more
Release over
The shame kicks in
The glue has dissolved
The ability to stand seems to have resolved
Walking hunched, back to the sheets
Thinking of all the lies,
All the deceits
How much more can one person take?
Through much uncertainty, of one thing I'm sure...
...The future holds many visits to the bathroom floor.
She speaks the words of betrayal
I cannot hear
I cannot see
The words bring confusion
It makes no sense
How can this be?
Seeking solace on the tiled floor
Why the bathroom gives me comfort
I cannot say
I am not sure
The words she spoke rise up in me
Come spilling out
Into the toilet
Acid burns the back of my throat
Time soon passes
I'm glued to the spot
I try to move, the bond is too strong
Eyes fixated on the same spot
In a trance from those twisted words
Mouth hangs open, still in surprise
Tongue runs dry
I feel nothing and yet,
I feel everything
The swirling vortex of crap inside me,
Hurricane insanity
Becomes too much to bare
The way to get off the bathroom floor,
becomes clear
A flash of silver
A trickle of red
One stroke
Two stroke
Three stroke
Four
I crave the pain,
But it's there no more
Release over
The shame kicks in
The glue has dissolved
The ability to stand seems to have resolved
Walking hunched, back to the sheets
Thinking of all the lies,
All the deceits
How much more can one person take?
Through much uncertainty, of one thing I'm sure...
...The future holds many visits to the bathroom floor.
Tuesday, 19 July 2011
Betrayal, on a whole new scale.
I promised myself i would reach out more and post more regularly. Im afraid when something is happening, it takes a hold of me and i am to depressed or sane enough to write about it constructively. I have to write about it when i am ready to. For that i hope you will be patient with me. Taken me a while to get the energy and write but here goes.
So the man who assaulted me works at my local hospital, where i worked (i've left now due to this) and where my sister and friends still work. With reporting it to the police i thought even if he is not convicted there is a good chance of him loosing his job because he works with vulnerable adults...i didnt realise this but his boss is friends with him outside of work and she believed his lies of innocence. When he wasn't prosecuted he was able to return to work, i've not stepped foot in the hospital since.
I have always told my family and friends if they ever see him to please tell me, i know it would hurt me but i wanted to know and i was desperate to find out if he really did return back to work because if he had left, it meant i could continue to work in the place that i love, conveniently 5 mins from my house.
On friday night in a round-a-bout way, my sister revealed something which has shaken me terribly. She told me that she has infact seen him twice around the hospital and kept it from me. It really hit me hard. I think because i have not seen him for 8 months, all that is left of him are the memories that swarm my head. For the longest time he has felt 'not real' if that makes any sense. Like he haunts my memories but he isn't really living out there. Knowing my sister had seen him with her eyes made him so so terrifyingly real to me again. But this wasn't the worst part, i then started asking questions 'why didnt u tell me' 'where did u see him' 'did he see you, recognise you?' 'did you say anything'. She kept dodging all my questions and trying to escape.
My sister works on the nurse bank in the hospital as a carer, she covers sickness and leave on all wards, so work rings her and offers her shifts on wards which she then accepts or declines. She then tells me...that a month or so ago, she accepted a shift on HIS ward and worked with HIM! How could she do this to me? What would possess her to go on that ward knowing the man who R* me and destroyed my entire life would be there? how could she work alongside him? how could she not scream at him, punch him, kick him, defend me? I am so confused and hurt and angry as to why she would do this? Knowing that she has worked alongside HIM is destroying me i cant make sense of it. After she told me i went to the bathroom and threw up. She was acting like it was no big deal saying 'well its not like i talked to him or anything' - Oh yeah CHEERS!! I stayed glued to the bathroom floor for hours, images swirling in my head, just knowing she was in the same vicinity of him sends my stomach churning. I sat on the cold tiles and stared at the same spot on the wall in some sort of trance. I lost it.
My mum comes upstairs to check on me, sees the state of me. says to my sister 'see i told you you shouldnt've told her'....so my mum knew too! Knew she had worked with him, had seen him had lied and kept it from me. I felt so betrayed. I couldn't let out all the crap bubbling inside me, so i used the only way i know how, with SI :(
Many things i had been refusing to allow myself to think about, that i've been running from seemed so real to me now. HE was real once again. In my distressed i started to search for ways to SU, awful ways, terrible ways, terrible things i went to do. The only thing that stopped me was knowing it wouldn't be enough to work. By this time hours had passed and they were both asleep. In the silence of the night i packed my things and left with no idea as to where i was going to go. My ex-boyfriend who i am still close to, came and got me. I've been staying at his house ever since.
After speak to friends of mine who work at the hospital they shared me anger and how they could never do that. They said they would never go on his ward and want to see the face of the man who did those awful things to me and got away with it, said they couldn't hold themselves back for screaming in his face. They said they would never do that to me, so why would my sister?
I know my mum and sister kept it from me because they knew me knowing he had been seen would upset me, and yes of course it has, but no where enough as knowing my sister deliberately sought him out and worked a 7.5 hour shift alongside the man who r* me. Its not like she said 'yeah i saw him in the hall, gave him the most disgusting look i could give and turned and walked in the opposite direction'
I dont know, i just need to know peoples thoughts, am i right to be this angry and hurt? am i being silly or childish? am i over reacting? Urgh, i just don't know what to do anymore, my life is a mess already without having to deal with this from my own family.
So the man who assaulted me works at my local hospital, where i worked (i've left now due to this) and where my sister and friends still work. With reporting it to the police i thought even if he is not convicted there is a good chance of him loosing his job because he works with vulnerable adults...i didnt realise this but his boss is friends with him outside of work and she believed his lies of innocence. When he wasn't prosecuted he was able to return to work, i've not stepped foot in the hospital since.
I have always told my family and friends if they ever see him to please tell me, i know it would hurt me but i wanted to know and i was desperate to find out if he really did return back to work because if he had left, it meant i could continue to work in the place that i love, conveniently 5 mins from my house.
On friday night in a round-a-bout way, my sister revealed something which has shaken me terribly. She told me that she has infact seen him twice around the hospital and kept it from me. It really hit me hard. I think because i have not seen him for 8 months, all that is left of him are the memories that swarm my head. For the longest time he has felt 'not real' if that makes any sense. Like he haunts my memories but he isn't really living out there. Knowing my sister had seen him with her eyes made him so so terrifyingly real to me again. But this wasn't the worst part, i then started asking questions 'why didnt u tell me' 'where did u see him' 'did he see you, recognise you?' 'did you say anything'. She kept dodging all my questions and trying to escape.
My sister works on the nurse bank in the hospital as a carer, she covers sickness and leave on all wards, so work rings her and offers her shifts on wards which she then accepts or declines. She then tells me...that a month or so ago, she accepted a shift on HIS ward and worked with HIM! How could she do this to me? What would possess her to go on that ward knowing the man who R* me and destroyed my entire life would be there? how could she work alongside him? how could she not scream at him, punch him, kick him, defend me? I am so confused and hurt and angry as to why she would do this? Knowing that she has worked alongside HIM is destroying me i cant make sense of it. After she told me i went to the bathroom and threw up. She was acting like it was no big deal saying 'well its not like i talked to him or anything' - Oh yeah CHEERS!! I stayed glued to the bathroom floor for hours, images swirling in my head, just knowing she was in the same vicinity of him sends my stomach churning. I sat on the cold tiles and stared at the same spot on the wall in some sort of trance. I lost it.
My mum comes upstairs to check on me, sees the state of me. says to my sister 'see i told you you shouldnt've told her'....so my mum knew too! Knew she had worked with him, had seen him had lied and kept it from me. I felt so betrayed. I couldn't let out all the crap bubbling inside me, so i used the only way i know how, with SI :(
Many things i had been refusing to allow myself to think about, that i've been running from seemed so real to me now. HE was real once again. In my distressed i started to search for ways to SU, awful ways, terrible ways, terrible things i went to do. The only thing that stopped me was knowing it wouldn't be enough to work. By this time hours had passed and they were both asleep. In the silence of the night i packed my things and left with no idea as to where i was going to go. My ex-boyfriend who i am still close to, came and got me. I've been staying at his house ever since.
After speak to friends of mine who work at the hospital they shared me anger and how they could never do that. They said they would never go on his ward and want to see the face of the man who did those awful things to me and got away with it, said they couldn't hold themselves back for screaming in his face. They said they would never do that to me, so why would my sister?
I know my mum and sister kept it from me because they knew me knowing he had been seen would upset me, and yes of course it has, but no where enough as knowing my sister deliberately sought him out and worked a 7.5 hour shift alongside the man who r* me. Its not like she said 'yeah i saw him in the hall, gave him the most disgusting look i could give and turned and walked in the opposite direction'
I dont know, i just need to know peoples thoughts, am i right to be this angry and hurt? am i being silly or childish? am i over reacting? Urgh, i just don't know what to do anymore, my life is a mess already without having to deal with this from my own family.
Tuesday, 5 July 2011
'Too unpleasant to remember, to tragic to forget'
Apologies for not posting recently, a lot has come to my attention since this whole mess with the CPS. I thought it was my anti depressants keeping me numb, stopping me from feeling and causing everything to become repressed. Recent events have made me realise I was partially responsible for being numb and brushing it all under the carpet. To be honest i'm scared to let it out...it just might kill me.
I want to share with you a quote from a good friend of mine 'Too unpleasant to remember, to tragic to forget' it is relatable to this post. I want to share how i had the epiphany that it was I who was repressing everything going on inside of me.
In therapy I'm always moaning about how numb i feel. How i crave to cry over what i have been through, how i want to face it all, sieve through it and begin to process it all so i can move on in my healing journey. I have always blamed this on my antidepressants, i even begged my GP to half my dose so i could feel something, anything. After being this way for a while my therapist suggested guided imagery. She warned it could open me up and bring out some things and that she wasn't sure if i was ready. I said i was fed up of being numb and ready to start dealing with it all.
The session begun with me closing my eyes and relaxing into my chair. I did deep breathing exercises to the sound of her voice until i was completely relaxed. She then guided me into a circular room, there were no doors or windows, it was completely empty. She then begun asking me questions about what i could see, hear, smell, touch in the room. At first i found it difficult, seeing nothing. Then out of no where.....i saw it. At the opposite end of the circular room was a white bed, 'thee' white bed. It was clean, plain and bright white, almost clinical looking. The bed sheets on the bed were ones i recognised. Immediately tears welled up in my eyes, something which hadn't happened for a while. She asked me to go sit on the bed. I said i couldn't. Instead she told me to walk over to the bed, she guided me step by difficult step until i was stood next to it. I could feel my hands start to tremble. Whilst i was there she asked me what i felt when i looked at this bed, i replied with coldness, hatred and emptiness, i wished the bed didn't exist. She told me to burn the bed, asked me what i want to use as fuel, i used petrol, i flung it all over the bed until the canister was empty, then i lit a match and slowly flicked it onto the bed. The bed was quickly ablaze, bright reds yellows and oranges engulfed the bed. Oddly the fire was cold, i felt no heat coming from the flames. Suddenly to my left a door appeared in the room, i walked out of it shutting the door behind, it lead me onto 'his' landing. I ran down the stairs and out the front door onto the street where i walked away leaving the burning bed behind. I was then brought out of my relaxed state.
After this i was asked to draw the first thing that came into my mind. This is what i drew:
The white bed but without any detail (detail makes it more real) the slant of 'his' wall and the blue colour of the walls. All surrounded by a dark mass of evil, terror, pain and hurt. It's strange how an object can have such a massive impact, i wonder what it would say if it could talk? The dark memories it holds. I despise this bed, i wish i could burn it for real, i hate that it exists.
After therapy i was very shaken up but pleased i had unlocked something. My therapist said she was proud of me as i had never mentioned anything about 'it' before. I felt i had achieved something. On the drive home however things changed, i suddenly got the imagine in my head of sprinklers coming on and putting out the fire , when it was diminished the bed remained. It was black and burnt....but it remained. Then out of no where i experienced the worst body memory i have had in a long time. I couldn't get away from his touch. It was there, it felt so real, i freaked out and had a major panic attack luckily managing to carry on driving. When i got home it felt like there were so many images pushing against the side of brain trying to force their way out, i fought really hard to keep them at bay, suppressing them into my subconscious and then it hit me. It was ME that was suppressing it all along. I'd just been doing it without realising, now it had been brought to my attention, i knew it was me. Sure the antidepressants played their part in keeping me numb but they weren't the sole cause. My body had had too much and gone into complete shutdown and i was so terrified of facing it all again that i just started running. Running from the memories, from the hurt and the pain, running from my trauma with the legal system. I've realised that i haven't been ready to face it all, i really want to face it and deal with it, but perhaps I'm just not ready to. Unfortunately now with my meeting with CPS happening on friday i am forced to face it all again, to re-live it, to talk about what happened when i haven't uttered a single word of the incident for seven months now.
To say i am terrified is an understatement.
I want to share with you a quote from a good friend of mine 'Too unpleasant to remember, to tragic to forget' it is relatable to this post. I want to share how i had the epiphany that it was I who was repressing everything going on inside of me.
In therapy I'm always moaning about how numb i feel. How i crave to cry over what i have been through, how i want to face it all, sieve through it and begin to process it all so i can move on in my healing journey. I have always blamed this on my antidepressants, i even begged my GP to half my dose so i could feel something, anything. After being this way for a while my therapist suggested guided imagery. She warned it could open me up and bring out some things and that she wasn't sure if i was ready. I said i was fed up of being numb and ready to start dealing with it all.
The session begun with me closing my eyes and relaxing into my chair. I did deep breathing exercises to the sound of her voice until i was completely relaxed. She then guided me into a circular room, there were no doors or windows, it was completely empty. She then begun asking me questions about what i could see, hear, smell, touch in the room. At first i found it difficult, seeing nothing. Then out of no where.....i saw it. At the opposite end of the circular room was a white bed, 'thee' white bed. It was clean, plain and bright white, almost clinical looking. The bed sheets on the bed were ones i recognised. Immediately tears welled up in my eyes, something which hadn't happened for a while. She asked me to go sit on the bed. I said i couldn't. Instead she told me to walk over to the bed, she guided me step by difficult step until i was stood next to it. I could feel my hands start to tremble. Whilst i was there she asked me what i felt when i looked at this bed, i replied with coldness, hatred and emptiness, i wished the bed didn't exist. She told me to burn the bed, asked me what i want to use as fuel, i used petrol, i flung it all over the bed until the canister was empty, then i lit a match and slowly flicked it onto the bed. The bed was quickly ablaze, bright reds yellows and oranges engulfed the bed. Oddly the fire was cold, i felt no heat coming from the flames. Suddenly to my left a door appeared in the room, i walked out of it shutting the door behind, it lead me onto 'his' landing. I ran down the stairs and out the front door onto the street where i walked away leaving the burning bed behind. I was then brought out of my relaxed state.
After this i was asked to draw the first thing that came into my mind. This is what i drew:
After therapy i was very shaken up but pleased i had unlocked something. My therapist said she was proud of me as i had never mentioned anything about 'it' before. I felt i had achieved something. On the drive home however things changed, i suddenly got the imagine in my head of sprinklers coming on and putting out the fire , when it was diminished the bed remained. It was black and burnt....but it remained. Then out of no where i experienced the worst body memory i have had in a long time. I couldn't get away from his touch. It was there, it felt so real, i freaked out and had a major panic attack luckily managing to carry on driving. When i got home it felt like there were so many images pushing against the side of brain trying to force their way out, i fought really hard to keep them at bay, suppressing them into my subconscious and then it hit me. It was ME that was suppressing it all along. I'd just been doing it without realising, now it had been brought to my attention, i knew it was me. Sure the antidepressants played their part in keeping me numb but they weren't the sole cause. My body had had too much and gone into complete shutdown and i was so terrified of facing it all again that i just started running. Running from the memories, from the hurt and the pain, running from my trauma with the legal system. I've realised that i haven't been ready to face it all, i really want to face it and deal with it, but perhaps I'm just not ready to. Unfortunately now with my meeting with CPS happening on friday i am forced to face it all again, to re-live it, to talk about what happened when i haven't uttered a single word of the incident for seven months now.
To say i am terrified is an understatement.
Thursday, 23 June 2011
Dear 23
23 is all I see,
That number rips a hole in me.
Sends me shaking,
Breathing fast
A reality I find hard to grasp.
23 I dread its arrival,
Between the sheets is key to survival.
Refusing to leave,
Despite my will
23 It haunts me still.
23 I know your face,
I'm used to being in this place.
Staring up,
The ceilings black
Trying desperately to not look back.
23 Makes dark memories stir,
Reality around me becomes a blur.
3, 2, 1, time travelling back,
No escaping
I'm forced to look back.
23 Please make it stop,
Nightmares, flashbacks
Memory attacks.
All these thoughts within my mind,
Feels like they'll never subside.
23 Your silence screams loud,
Unwanted ghost I hope your happy
I hope your proud.
The tortured girl within my soul,
Never again shall be whole.
Dear 23, because of you,
And all that you have put me through
This girl is hanging,
by a thread
how has she survived? how is she not dead?
Wednesday, 22 June 2011
15 Minutes to go....
In 15 minutes time it will be my eighth month anniversary.
Tomorrow will be a day filled with:
'At this time i was....'
'At this time he was...'
I find anniversaries very exhausting physically and mentally. Its hard because everyone around you forgets. Forgets today is the 23rd, forgets what's running through your mind, forgets what your body is remembering worse than any other day. Eight months already, time just keeps on ticking by. I feel like I'm stuck in the past whilst everything around me continues to keep moving forward. Sometimes i get so jumbled with my days, a few days ago i was convinced it was July and yet i always seem to know when the 23rd is approaching, there has only been one time i forgot and that was a very dark time. I wasn't even aware if it was morning or night let alone the date.
What's been worse about the past two anniversaries is my numbness. I have an inability to feel.....well, anything! No sadness, no grief, no tears, no pain, no joy, no nervousness. During my dark times i would have given anything to not feel. Now i spend my time just wishing to feel anything! All i want to do is cry, and feel the pain like i used to. At least that way i can process it, work through and try to deal with it. At the minute i feel like I'm pushing it all under the rug, saving it for another day and I'm fed up of it. I JUST WANT TO FEEL AND GRIEVE FOR WHAT I HAVE LOST! - is that too much to ask??
What really scares me about it being my eighth month anni is the fact its one month closer to the one year mark. I don't want to reach one year, that day will be a living nightmare. I feel like i'd rather die than face it. It terrifies me. I would love for time to stop still and for me to stay in this moment forever, i don't want life to continue with me having to live like this each and every single day. I don't want to reach that one year mark.
I still have a few months to get yet, i guess for now i just need to focus on getting through tomorrow....
Im going to need a lot of cigarets.....
......
and alcohol.
Tomorrow will be a day filled with:
'At this time i was....'
'At this time he was...'
I find anniversaries very exhausting physically and mentally. Its hard because everyone around you forgets. Forgets today is the 23rd, forgets what's running through your mind, forgets what your body is remembering worse than any other day. Eight months already, time just keeps on ticking by. I feel like I'm stuck in the past whilst everything around me continues to keep moving forward. Sometimes i get so jumbled with my days, a few days ago i was convinced it was July and yet i always seem to know when the 23rd is approaching, there has only been one time i forgot and that was a very dark time. I wasn't even aware if it was morning or night let alone the date.
What's been worse about the past two anniversaries is my numbness. I have an inability to feel.....well, anything! No sadness, no grief, no tears, no pain, no joy, no nervousness. During my dark times i would have given anything to not feel. Now i spend my time just wishing to feel anything! All i want to do is cry, and feel the pain like i used to. At least that way i can process it, work through and try to deal with it. At the minute i feel like I'm pushing it all under the rug, saving it for another day and I'm fed up of it. I JUST WANT TO FEEL AND GRIEVE FOR WHAT I HAVE LOST! - is that too much to ask??
What really scares me about it being my eighth month anni is the fact its one month closer to the one year mark. I don't want to reach one year, that day will be a living nightmare. I feel like i'd rather die than face it. It terrifies me. I would love for time to stop still and for me to stay in this moment forever, i don't want life to continue with me having to live like this each and every single day. I don't want to reach that one year mark.
I still have a few months to get yet, i guess for now i just need to focus on getting through tomorrow....
Im going to need a lot of cigarets.....
......
and alcohol.
Wednesday, 15 June 2011
My Shadow
This is the first poem I wrote to try to express my inner thoughts and emotions. Written on March 6th 2011, I cried as i wrote it. It's very personal and feeling a bit vulnerable about sharing it with you all, but it's something I'd like to do.
I hope you like it...
My Shadow
My shadow used to wear a friendly face
one i did not fear
she was an imprint of a girl i knew
but she's no longer here
His face it seems to haunt me
every single day
lurking in my shadow
why wont he go away?
my shadows face has changed, it no longer resembles me
instead it is a reminder, of what he did to me
his shadow really scares me
although its not really there
i wonder if he thinks of me
i doubt he even cares
my shadows face has changed, it no longer resembles me
instead it is a reminder, of what he did to me.
I try to forget that day
where my shadow forever changed
i want my old one back
this one feels so strange
But your shadow never lets me forget,
i have no place to hide
you have taken my everything
its as though i've died
my shadows face has changed, it no longer resembles me
your actions have made me forget....who i am meant to be?
(Words copyright to The War on Rape)
I'd appreciate any comments. Thank you!
I hope you like it...
My Shadow
My shadow used to wear a friendly face
one i did not fear
she was an imprint of a girl i knew
but she's no longer here
His face it seems to haunt me
every single day
lurking in my shadow
why wont he go away?
my shadows face has changed, it no longer resembles me
instead it is a reminder, of what he did to me
his shadow really scares me
although its not really there
i wonder if he thinks of me
i doubt he even cares
my shadows face has changed, it no longer resembles me
instead it is a reminder, of what he did to me.
I try to forget that day
where my shadow forever changed
i want my old one back
this one feels so strange
But your shadow never lets me forget,
i have no place to hide
you have taken my everything
its as though i've died
my shadows face has changed, it no longer resembles me
your actions have made me forget....who i am meant to be?
(Words copyright to The War on Rape)
I'd appreciate any comments. Thank you!
Tuesday, 14 June 2011
Letter to the universe....
Dear Universe,
I would firstly like to apologise for whatever it is i did to offend you. Since September 2010 you have tested and tested and tested me more than i thought humanly possible. The one huge incident which lead me to create this blog was quite enough to be getting on with and yet you punish me still. I am wondering if perhaps a mistake has been made in your office? Has my name been mistaken for someone else's? A very bad person who deserves bad things to happen to them? Or has my file which explains the good natured soul that resides inside this body of mine been misplaced? The events that have made up these hellish months are not deserving of a person like myself. Therefore i cannot help but assume a mistake has been made somewhere. Let me remind you of what makes up these past 9 months of my life:
....and now sweet universe, after ALL of the above, on saturday you decide to throw a car crash into the mix!! You really couldn't make all this up if you tried! A car crash.... CAR CRASH! I have finally done my first shift back at work last week and now i am unable to work again due to severe whiplash! I no longer have a car thanks to it being smashed into, i can't afford a new one.
But do you want to hear the best of it? For months i have prayed to be in an accident, drove fast round corners in the rain hoping to slide and flip my car, hoping for it all to end, to not exist anymore, for the pain to be gone. Now you finally answer that prayer...and all i get is whiplash! You couldn't even have the decency or kindness in your heart to just finish me off, no you want to see me suffer further. Wow your guys in the office must be laughing their heads off! 15 soul destroying, heart breaking incidents in the space of 9 months, i tremble to think what's next?
I refuse to believe you have done this to me, a mistake must have been made.
I don't deserve this.
This can't be my life.
I would firstly like to apologise for whatever it is i did to offend you. Since September 2010 you have tested and tested and tested me more than i thought humanly possible. The one huge incident which lead me to create this blog was quite enough to be getting on with and yet you punish me still. I am wondering if perhaps a mistake has been made in your office? Has my name been mistaken for someone else's? A very bad person who deserves bad things to happen to them? Or has my file which explains the good natured soul that resides inside this body of mine been misplaced? The events that have made up these hellish months are not deserving of a person like myself. Therefore i cannot help but assume a mistake has been made somewhere. Let me remind you of what makes up these past 9 months of my life:
- The break down of my 3 1/2 year long relationship to a wonderful man
- Being sexually assaulted by the 'kind' friend who tried to help me during the aftermath of my painful break up
- Suffering from PTSD, severe depression, anxiety and panic attacks
- My family going through pain seeing me this way
- Being denied justice by the legal system and knowing he has walked free
- The CPS ( for 3!!! months tomorrow) trying to get out of meeting with me to explain why they didn't prosecute and me being trapped in this endless turmoil, waiting for my meeting, to ask why they dropped the case when they had a confession from him in text messages to myself
- Having to fight suicide every second of every day and turning to self half as a way of coping
- My abuser being able to return to work at the hospital meaning i have to leave due to terrifying fear of seeing him in the hallways
- Being forced to take a year out of university due to not coping and because i didn't show up for a month and a half and missed an assignment submission
- Not being able to work for 4 months due to all of the above
- Getting into debt due to not being able to work and continue with my university course
- Lending money to a much needed holiday to get away, and then my passport getting lost and me being stranded in America for an additional five days with no money and no luggage
- Attempting suicide in America before being stopped by the police
- Travel insurance refusing to pay out for all the additional costs incurred because they are scamming bastards!
....and now sweet universe, after ALL of the above, on saturday you decide to throw a car crash into the mix!! You really couldn't make all this up if you tried! A car crash.... CAR CRASH! I have finally done my first shift back at work last week and now i am unable to work again due to severe whiplash! I no longer have a car thanks to it being smashed into, i can't afford a new one.
But do you want to hear the best of it? For months i have prayed to be in an accident, drove fast round corners in the rain hoping to slide and flip my car, hoping for it all to end, to not exist anymore, for the pain to be gone. Now you finally answer that prayer...and all i get is whiplash! You couldn't even have the decency or kindness in your heart to just finish me off, no you want to see me suffer further. Wow your guys in the office must be laughing their heads off! 15 soul destroying, heart breaking incidents in the space of 9 months, i tremble to think what's next?
I refuse to believe you have done this to me, a mistake must have been made.
I don't deserve this.
This can't be my life.
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