December blues & reliving trauma

My head’s a mess, and honestly? My head isn’t doing much better. 

Healing fucking hurts.  

It feels like someone has ripped off every single scab and band aid I’ve ever had, all at once. 

Raw, painful, vulnerable, bloody, open.  

I either do too little, or I go way overboard, leaving no stone unturned.  

Needless to say, I run straight into a wall at some point, I’m pretty sure it’s on purpose now, my years of living in chaos, the yelling, throwing, anger, walking on eggshells. I’ve grown accustomed to living in chaos, hell, I thrive in it. 

Oh how I wish it wasn’t so. I am exhausted, done, poofed. 

Yet somehow, I manage to keep going. I’m still standing. 

It’s like someone has glued metal poles on my legs, up along my back, to make sure that no matter what, I keep on going where I’m going. 

I guess that’s what trauma is.  

Trauma makes you scared of what happens if you don’t keep going, because that’s exactly what trauma is, the fear of the consequence of what will happen if you don’t do what’s expected of you. 

I want to lay down, I want to stop, to relax and just be. But the truth is, I simply do not know how; and even if I did, would I dare? 

I’m still struggling with everyday stuff, cleaning, hygiene, eating, sleep. I always have. So much that I don’t notice it anymore, until it gets worse. That usually means that I’m going downhill again. 

I always crash at some point, always. Cronic depression, dystimia they call it. 

My oldest just got diagnosed with ADHD, and I guess I already knew he had it, but the fact that there’s something “wrong” with him, that I can’t fix, was hard to hear, a shock perhaps. But I must say, it did explain a lot, getting it verified. 

It’s been a very busy year, a lot of stuff happening, perhaps too much.  

I’m nearly finished with my license, school is almost finished for now, braces are on, looking for a car, finally got some help for my oldest, cut out the rest of my family, protecting my peace and my kids. 

November and December are always difficult, my birthday month and a major family holiday. It makes me feel very alone, unwanted and unlovable. 

I’m not tho, even though it’s been ingrained in me since I was a child. 

I have friends, my two boys, my cat, and myself. That is enough, it has to be. It will be. 

Not having family that wants to love you, and be there will always be difficult, and feel like a gaping hole, but I know that that hole is better than the alternative of chasing someone who doesn’t know how to love you back. 

Another one of my vices. Chasing the people I care about, to make sure they love me, that they’re not mad at me, that they’re not leaving. 

New connections? I catch myself attempting to do the same thing. That is a no go. 

I do not need to beg for love. I am enough, and I will repeat it to myself until it makes sense, until it rings true. 

Nevertheless, family sucks. 

You might not believe it, but I had no clue what to write today, but the incessant sound of the clacking of a keyboard wouldn’t go away until I started typing.  

I do think better with a keyboard, strangely enough. The chaos slowly comes together, word by word. My thoughts suddenly make more sense, and my head is calmer once more. 

I have the need to hide away in a pair of strong, safe and welcoming arms, someone to calm my storm. I do not have such a thing, all I have is me, and the cat. 

I cannot run to someone else every time something is difficult. I haven’t really done that tho, but I know that if I start, I will lose myself again. 

Balance, that’s what I need, but have no idea how to achieve. 

It seems oh so easy, yet to me it feels unobtainable. 

If you haven’t guessed already, I also think that there’s a chance I have ADHD too, on top of my possible CPTSD, dystimia and generalized anxiety disorder. Yikes 

It would explain a lot though, maybe it would be the missing piece they could never find? A what to the why? 

I feel overwhelmed a lot of the time, so much that I just sit back down and start scrolling. It doesn’t require any planning or effort or thinking. I’m not lazy, just living in constant sensory overload. There’s a difference. 

I just need a fucking break. Please? 

Feeling isolated.

I don’t feel like I have anyone to talk to anymore. Everyone just reacts, instead of trying to listen, to be there.

I’m going through a lot right now, health wise, both physically and mentally; and I feel completely alone.

I lash out, I isolate myself, push other people away, and stop talking. My inner monologue has gotten too negative, to the point where I don’t fight it, I believe it.

Physically, I’m not alone, but yet I don’t have any connection with others right now.

I feel like a burden, like i cant do anything right, nothing I say matters.

It’s painful.

If I keep it up, I will end up completely alone, I’m sure of it.

I’m not easy to be around. I’m stubborn, defiant, angry, no motivation, a real pain.

I want it to stop. I’m tired of being in pain.

Flashbacks.

I feel pathetic, broken.

It’s been years. Still I am regularly haunted by what he did. How he forced himself on me.

Panic attack, tears, flashbacks, so goddamn overwhelmed and scared.

I keep it to myself. I don’t want to talk about it. It feels unimportant, nothing I want to burden others with.

I need help to process, to get through what he did, the abuse I endured.

I hurriedly wiped my face, making sure she won’t see. Desperately hoping she will. How contradicting is that?

I want to be seen, held, taken care of, but I don’t dare. I don’t know how to accept it.

He scarred my core. Made sure I will never forget, never recover.

I feel broken.

I want to take it seriously, want to be able to talk about it, I just don’t know how.

The words stop at the back of my throat. I can’t even write about what happened. I’m fucking traumatised.

I hate him for doing this to me. I hate him.

I need to start talking.

But where do I start?

How?

xx

Still me, disconnected, but I’m still here.

Acceptance?

I am who I am, I’ve always been clear on that.

To others..

But what about towards myself? Why is it so difficult to accept myself the way I am, pmdd, ptsd and everything that follows?

It is a part of me, so why does it feel like failure to accept me as I am?

The fact that I might be like this, if not worse, for years to come, with no fix, is absolutely horrifying. And that’s putting it mildly.

Sleep should feel like welcome relief, yet I keep dreading it, putting it off. I know what lack of sleep does to me, how badly it affects me, so why is it so hard to get off my arse, and go to bed?

Self destructive? Very likely. It is me after all.

I want to do better, to be better, but I just can’t seem to make the leap, thought to action. To do what I know I need to do to get better, back up again.

I am irrational, yet not.

I am hurt that my new kitten has bonded more with A, than me. I take the sidelines, don’t want to be in the way, yet I end up hurt, every single time, simply because I can’t get myself to put myself first.

I adore him, he’s fluffy and super cuddly. I want to feel like he’s mine, I need time alone with him. It’s hard for me to share my pets, I’m afraid I’ll be left behind, forgotten, because someone better came around.

Ah yes, my abandonment trauma, manifesting with my pets. Amazing, love that for me.

I feel pathetic, like a child, being upset because my cat likes someone else better. It’s foolish but not. My inner little girl is heartbroken and frustrated. My cat. That’s all she hears. You can’t have him. Irrational.

How do I fix this? How do I get past it? Because surely it’ll rear its ugly head with the kids as well, in time. Surely my kiddos Will sometimes choose her, that’s only natural.

But I wonder, what happens then?

In my mind, my place in the boy’s and cats lives, is not set in stone, I am replaceable, easily forgotten, out of sight out of mind. There will always be a better option, and that us never me.

My inner child is conflicted, sharing is a good thing. Not feeling like we’ve gotten the chance with the new kitten, is sore. Of course A would be drawn to him, she just lost a beloved pet. She’s the reason we chose that cat to begin with, to please her, because she fell head over heels for him. She called him her stand in for the pet she lost.

So yeah, in reality, he is hers, and that stings like a bitch. She didn’t want a cat, I was the one getting a cat, for me and my boys. And this is still how it ended up. I feel replaceable and unimportant.

Damn you inner 4 year old, damn you people pleaser. Fuck it all. It’s illogical, yet not. Why does it have to be both at once?

He is mine, but feels like hers. Why does it have to be such a big deal for me? Why is that my sore spot?

xx

Still me, butthurt over a cat. I’m a fucking adult, feeling like a child. Ugh

Just hold me close.

The triggers just keeps getting more intense, more difficult to handle. It’s like I lose my grip on reality, bit by bit.

I know it’s ptsd, I know why, I know how. Still I struggle with keeping my head above water.

I have the urge to run away, like that’ll make the pain go away. If I just run fast enough.

I don’t want to remember what he did, how violated I felt, how betrayed, and broken.

I hate that she has to deal with the effects of him, what he put me through, that are still very much present. I despise him for it.

I don’t know how to process it, how to get through it. I can’t even talk about it.

It makes me feel foolish, like it wasn’t as bad as I remember, that I’m just being over dramatic, silly. That it wasn’t nearly as bad.

He nearly fucking broke me.

I want to report it, but I’m scared. I want him to own up to what he did, to someone who isn’t me. I want consequence. I want something.

It won’t fix anything. It won’t undo what he did, but at least something would come of it.

He has apologised for it, acknowledged that it happened, several times. He knows he did wrong. But it’s just not enough.

He needs consequences for his actions.

Something. Anything.

xx

Still me, just dealing with a lot.

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I can’t breathe.

If feels like everything is imploding, and I’m doing everything I can to keep upright. I know this feeling.

I’m about to break. I’m pushing away.

I don’t want another panic attack. Not on top of everything else.

I feel like I’m about to lose control.

I need sleep. I don’t want to sleep.

I am running on fumes, desperately pushing people away, at the same time trying my best to keep standing.

I’m so goddamn triggered right now, I can’t think straight. My logic is gone. All I feel is pain and pure chaos. The only reason it has yet to unfold is because I forced myself to write. To get it out.

But all it’s doing is postponing what will happen no matter how hard I try for it not to.

I Will crash. I will end up alone by my own doing.

It’s only a matter of time.

I’m too much for even myself to handle right now.

I’m back there again. It’s all I see.

Need to watch what I say, manage my every feeling, tip toe. So I don’t become too much again. So my needs don’t overshadow his. Become smaller. Insignificant. Less of a target. Less. Me.

I can’t let anyone else into this chaos. I can’t handle it, I won’t let them deal with this broken mess of a person.

Not even remotely human, he would say. Completely lacking in empathy. Dramatic.

Lack of sleep pushes everything to the surface.

I can’t fucking breathe like this.

xx

Still me, gasping for air

Communication.

I ended up walking right into a trigger. Why? Because I simply wasn’t clear enough.

I am still triggered, even now. I don’t dare speak about it. I’m worried that it’ll mess things up further. I’m afraid to end up feeling invalidated and shameful.

I didn’t say no, I made up an excuse. It got pushed, and my own body responded appropriately for the situation.

I didn’t realise until after. The trigger, the need to get away, to get some space.

The fear.

Simply because I didn’t say stop. No. I don’t want to.

I put myself there. Yet I’m the one who feels like I wasn’t heard.

Triggered by the theme? Yup.

It throws me right back in time.

I made excuses, I didn’t fight hard enough. I gave up. I shut down.

I should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.

Fuck, I hate this feeling.

Being vulnerable doesn’t suit me.

How do I even bring this up?

What if I am overreacting, the girl who cried wolf?

Just because I feel violated doesn’t mean I was?

Fuck this bullshit.

Fuck triggers.

Fuck trauma.

xx

Still me, one breath at a time.

Pushing my limits.

Finally I’m at a place where I need to push past my own fear, and I actually have someone who’s more than willing to step in, have my back, and make sure it goes smoothly.

I have never let anyone close enough to my boys. Visits, sure, but other than my sister, I’ve clamped down. I don’t trust people with my kids. Yet I find myself desperately wanting to.

My bio family is toxic and severely damaged. It doesn’t mean that everyone else is.

I’m too sceptical. Too scared.

What if what if what if what if.

To take care of myself, I need to let someone else in. It is way overdue. Yet It feels too soon.

I want her. All of her. With me. Always.

Yet I’m in a position where it might be natural to tell them about her, what she is to me. And I’m terrified.

They like her, accept her. I love her.

But I’m scared. What if it goes south, crumbles after I’ve told them about what she is to me.

My boys are my entire life. Very few get the privilege of being a part of their life.

I need to trust her. Learn how to trust her.

Nothing will be resolved before trust is present.

Trust is scary, trust opens you up for hurt. Makes you vulnerable.

How does one trust?

It’s a completely new territory for me. I dont know how to even start.

I know I need to, I just don’t know how.

xx

Still me, trying to heal from something I didn’t break.

Leaving?

I’m scared she’s going to leave.

I’m scared that my issues are too much for her. I’m worried that my boundaries are making it too difficult for her to deal.

She cheated, but I’m scared she’s going to get fed up with me.

I really thought I had come further. Healed more. Apparently not. Not by a long shot.

She had a really tough day, and I couldn’t handle it. My feelings were all over the place, my pmdd was making me its bitch. I had to send her home. I had to put myself first. I had to make sure I could keep a straight face in front of my boys. I didn’t want them to see me like that.

My decision, which was purely for the sake of self-preservation, caused another rift between us.

I don’t know how to deal with it without crossing my own boundaries, by making myself feel unsafe and vulnerable.

She says she isn’t sure if she can handle seeing me tomorrow. Apparently it’s too hard having to leave me every night. Not being able to touch me the way she wants to, needs.

She’s frustrated. It’s been 6 days.

I need patience, understanding and closeness. I’m scared of letting her close again.

I don’t want to lose her. I no longer feel secure.

Everything feels different. She’s different. Gone is that calm and collected woman I met a few months back, replaced by frustration, impatience and confusion.

We clash more often. My emotions, my tug of war with my feelings frustrate her, I am very back and forth. Insecure, scared I’m doing something wrong.

One second I am fine with her kissing me, the next I am bombarded with images of her with someone else. It’s complete sensory overload.

She wants to take it further, but I’m hesitant, I’m scared it’ll get ruined. I’m scared that it’ll feel wrong, and that I won’t be able to stop it.

I feel just as vulnerable as I did when I was sexually assaulted, scared, and confused.

I don’t want to, but I’m worried that if she keeps pushing, I’ll end up doing it. Just like I have so many times before her. I never could get myself back from that.

I want to take that step when I feel safe again, not just to appease her. I don’t want it to break.

I want my choice, my decision to be final.

I want to be ready first, I need to. For me

xx

Still me, convinced she’s leaving