Wednesday, November 2, 2011


I'm still going to "check-in" groups twice a week.
It helps so much to talk to other people who are facing the same ignorance and dealing with the same struggles that I am. It's so hard going through this and not forgetting that I am not crazy.
More than anything, I want to feel like it's okay for me to be going through what I am, like this is just part of the healing process and nothing to be ashamed of.
But I don't.
I'm embarrassed to have PTSD. I'm embarrassed to have gotten myself into not one but TWO situations where I could be raped. I'm embarrassed that I can't control my anger or my tears more often than not. I'm embarrassed that I feel like everybody is a threat. I'm embarrassed that my boyfriend is carrying so much of our relationship right now, as I fall apart and find him taking care of me over and over and over again. I'm tired of being this way, and I don't for one second feel like it's okay to feel this way.
I woke up this morning with an elephant-size ball of anxiety sitting squarely on my chest. When my wonderful, amazing boyfriend tried to get too close to me physically, it got worse. I've never had flashbacks with him, and I rarely feel the need to close myself off from him. This morning, though, it was like he was the enemy. I had to get him away, even though I wanted nothing more than to feel loved. I had to hide my fear and anxiety and hurt, even though I wanted nothing more than to hear that it's okay to feel this way, and that the man I love so much understands.
I hate being stuck inside this ugly, angry, horrible shell.
I just want this all to go away. I don't want to be anxious about being around people anymore, and I don't want to wonder when I'll fall apart again. I don't want to worry about being in formations because I don't know if something will set me off while I'm surrounded by so many people. I don't want to worry about how much trouble I'll get in after I've had to walk away from a situation so I wouldn't lose control. This isn't who I want to be.
Last night, when I drove over to pick up my boyfriend from work, I had someone run up to the truck on the driver's side, to my open driver's side window, and scream at me to slow down. I was doing 10 mph in a 25 or 30 mph zone. It scared me and startled me so badly the one hand I had on the wheel at that particular moment jolted, and I caught myself just short of running the truck in his direction. I had been having a good day, and he set me on edge so badly I couldn't calm down completely for most of the evening.
I'm at work now, having chest pain and fighting tears and there's no specific reason that I can think of that I feel this way. I'm so frustrated.

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