You’ve already done what you’re going to one day do.
Can you imagine having a healthy relationship with sex that doesn’t involve a brutal reliving of your trauma, a crippling need to feel wanted and be useful, or a complete detachment between your mind and your body? Because I can’t!
I’m deleting tumblr for my own mental health. If you want to contact us. Message us on discord.
So, it’s been a while since I’ve even updated my journal, but I count posting here once in a while writing in my journal. I finally got to making my bed. I had old, stinky sheets on my bed for over three months until today. I’ve been sleeping on top of my covers for odd reasons (I feel like they’re odd reasons even tho I know they’re valid and true). I could never bring myself to comfortably sleep under my covers on my bed for over five months now. I felt constricted. Like I was close to suffocating into panic when there was absolutely no physical reason for me to.
When I was very little, there was a routine appointment I went to for my pediatrician. I won’t get into detail because barely mentioning it makes me sick to my stomach (which I’ve been trying to work on myself and with my therapist for sometime now) and it’s just stayed with me since the memories of what happened resurfaced and dug their way under my skin. To be 100% honest, I felt like every time I got stuck in my covers accidentally or felt like I was being watched by a shadow of his figure that he would come for me. That he would do what he did before but much worse. More invasive. I’ve explained this to my mom who knows full well of how it’s traumatized me more now that I remembered everything just a few months ago that have torn me down so much. I’ve made very good progress since then, but I have yet to really make a dent in my progress in a good way.
I want to sleep under my covers and not on top with several blankets to keep me warm. I don’t want to keep doing this to myself. I’m just terrified of having another vivid nightmare like I did just a couple weeks back where I woke up shaking and sobbing into my blankets while my parents both held me with shock wondering what they could or should do when I didn’t know either. That nightmare still chills my bones in the worst way possible. Its only been a couple weeks since it and I still feel like I’m drowning and the virus, protests and violence just are everywhere I open my phone up to and the tv and my laptop even on a site I use to write and post stories to vent. Mentally and emotionally I am just not capable of being stable enough to even have a conversation about what’s going on without breaking into tears of how broken I feel as a human being…..
I know I can still try. I’m still going to try to sleep under my covers tonight. They’re fresh, clean sheets, and I even flipped my mattress to the other side so I’d have a very cleaner spot and less dipped one to sleep on. If anyone reading my post got this far, thank you, and if there’s any advice you can give (any at all) it would help a lot. I have yet to talk to my therapist about the nightmare and other things on my mind but I’m planning for this week for it to happen.
I cant stop crying. My body is reliving things I cant remember.
Guhhh. I hate when I dnt wanna shower until way later on in the evening and just.. stay stagnant/dnt function otherwise for the whole day lol?? Stg I’ll just be in the same damn spot smoking my bong or w.e knowing I should be doing The Thing and I cant..
I’ve been rly good about keeping up my showering habits for quite some time too. Idk, just feeling particularly fragile today I guess lol. 🙃
i contacted my rapist two weeks ago, confronted him with everything he did to me and told him that im gonna report him.
it probably wasnt the smartest move by me - BUT i was so tired of shutting it up and i wanted him to know that I KNOW what HE DID to me.
for the last 7 years, he has walked as a free man. he had control over my life, since he made me shut up for so long. two weeks ago, the tables were turned, and now i havs control over his life.
the anxiety he feels now, the rage, the flashbacks, memories, seeing my name on his screen that day. that is what i have struggled with 7 years now and i got diagnosed c-ptsd in december. what he feels now cant even compete with my c-ptsd.
the fact is, even if it didnt seemed so to start with - i won.
When I was younger I was forced to count as a punishment, and became dependent on the action when I was anxious, counting to upwards of 50 to calm down, later in school this was used to bully me, I was made to write out up to a certain number on paper and give it to the kids after school to laugh at if I didn’t want the alternative (let me tell you it happened once, it was much worse). I have since had it ingrained into my head so much I count naturally in the back of my mind every day painstakingly counting to upwards of 10 to 20k, if I stop I become extremely anxious or have a meltdown….it’s not a fun experience to do every day, but I guess useful?
When I was about 15, I was thrown into the back of a car, turns out it was some older kids who I’d stood up to, they took me out into the woods, took my clothes…..a stick was involved in a part of the event I won’t talk about…. and I was beaten and left naked with my clothes a dirty mess
When I was younger I loved Spanish, it’s where my love of languages started, but my teacher ruined it for me for maaany many years with one simple gesture, I had had am episode and not studied for the test or slept and ended up being the only one to fail, and she pointed it out in front of the whole class “Dietrich you should be ashamed, everyone else passed, do you not take this class seriously? Do we need to put you in am easier class? Talk with me let’s figure this out…..ugh just see me after class” the biggest part of this was calling me out asking questions and getting angry at my silence when the whole class her included knew I was mute
Don’t any of you fucking DARE tell a mentally ill person that they’re being complicit or racist for avoiding current events and/or taking a break from social media.
This is a horrifying time for everyone and people with mental illness are being hit hard regardless of their race.
Have some goddamn empathy. Block me right now if you criticize the mentally ill for taking time off for their health.
I’m only a Cassandra until I’m right, and I’m always right
My Parents doesn‘t understand my mental and autistic difficulties.
It is all in my head and I only looking for excuses with my disabilities. When I will explain my difficilties to them with the reason behind it.
Exspecially my Enegy, Stimming and Executive Dysfunction.
How Can I change it. Every day I am Crying because they trigger my.
I want you to worship me like the God I am. Don’t make me rip those pretty little wings off, angel.
Does anyone else lose communication with their system frequently for no apparent reasons? Or like a mass dormancy. Because I am experiencing that lately and I have no idea why. Help..
hey can everyone reblog this post with tips for running away? i need to get out of here and maybe somebody else can use them
shards of glass
tearing into me
bile in my throat
on ice cold tile
covers the toilet
i’m so sorry
you never got to breathe
but at least you don’t
have to lead
the same life as me
trauma culture is thinking that if you direct the hurt inwards, you can’t hurt anyone else