It’s not as bad as it seems, it only hurts when I breathe

I guess I’m lucky I’ve had a few weeks of stability because it might be saving my ass right now. It might have built up my rational part a little, or given some strength to the rational/adult voice inside of me.
Because honestly, I feel like shit and suicidal. I’ve been crying all day. Yesterday was a big depressed day as well.

I know there is a huge possibility it’s all just hormones.

But it doesn’t make it better right now.

Rationality is telling me I have enough to live for, but emotionally I’m beyond done. I actually had ‘the talks’ again with my mother.

“Me; I want to die.. please let me die. I want to go”

Things that are ‘supposed’ to bring me joy, don’t. They barely even bring a smile on my face, which feels like a fake one.

Tomorrow will be a very hard day at therapy and I can’t help but think ‘fuck it all’.

And above all this, I feel so damn alone. Really like no one cares. I know people are seeing me doing well, and trusting me doing well on my own. But no one really asks me how I’m really doing.
Wednesday morning messed me up so bad. Therapy doesn’t even know. A few people on twitter approach me and genuinely ask me how I am, because I have been so quiet, and it actually breaks my heart, because THEY notice, how come the people around me don’t?

For the first time, in so long, I have the feeling my security blanket will not be enough when I go out. I feel like I have to carry around my ‘special sharp cutter’ just in case I need it. (Just like I used to)

 
What happened to me?

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Recovery; where am I?

Hi,

The last few days have been pretty good actually! I was quite busy but in a good way. Meeting up with people and just socializing 🙂 felt real good!

Today I talked to Justy (who I met up with yesterday as well!) about therapy and something Brandon and I are ‘argue-ing’ about sometimes.
And it gave me some insights, well, she gave me some insights.

The conversation with Brandon sort of goes like this. (btw, remember me wanting my topomax from the pharmacy, because it helps against nightmare’s?)

Brandon; You need to take responsibility for your life
Me; No! This life is not my responsibility. I’ll accept my past and move on from here, see what I can do with the things that are left.
Brandon; Your nightmares are your responsibility.
Me; No, I don’t like that word. I’ll accept them, but they’re not my responsibility, I didn’t choose them.
Brandon; Whose responsibility are they then? The women from the pharmacy?
Me; Well… they’re OUR responsibility

Justy immediately said he was testing me. I asked her, testing me for what?…… Testing me on how far along I probably am in coming to terms with my past. I don’t think it’s a secret that I can be stubborn. Especially not on this blog 😉 At this moment, I refuse to call my past, and the things I’m stuck with, my responsiblity. But as I was talking with Justy about this, I felt and just knew it was a matter of time before I would be able to replace the word accept to responsiblity.

I do think refusing to take responsibility is a little ‘childish’ of me, and not in a particularly negative way. It just seems to me that I’m not ready yet to accept that it’s really true what happened. And it really can’t be changed, by no-one. I really can’t get my childhood back. I really won’t get a father and a mother, the way I want to. I really won’t be able to turn back time, or be able to erase the memories. 

But untill then, I seem to cover it up with ‘acceptance’, untill I am ready to take the acceptance blanket off. I already know what’s lying underneath. It’s responsibility.

xoxo
Brianna

‘Not ready yet’

Hi,

Last thursday I had a talk with Brandon (and Polly came with). One thing that really lingered around in my head was that he said that it was a good thing for me to pick up my school work and study, and try to keep the past as it is. (something like that) And later in life, process it.

I didn’t really go into it, but it sure did shock me. What do you mean? Aren’t I ready yet? Have you given up on me? I’m going to be stuck with this stupid trauma for more years now?! How can I study with this head of mine?
As now I am having a little bit more  peace in my head, the thinking came up about this. (+ a lot of other things)

I really agree someone has to be ready. But I really wish someone would sit me down and explain to me clearly WHY he or she things I’m not ready yet. And there’d be no 45 minute time limit, just explain untill I fully understand. Give examples.

I do think I’ve grown a lot in the last year, I went from passive to more aggressive actually. You should see me in public now though, I’m either scared or ready to fight. Standing up for myself, not dealing with bullshit someone’s giving to me. Not afraid of telling them. I’m not someone who will shut up for your pleasure. Done that a long time, no more.
I’m a little concerned about this though, I do want to be self-assertive, but not in a aggressive way. I’m afraid with all the anger in me, it might explode.

On the other hand, I see how I can’t really communicate. Though I’ve been describing above how I can be very straight forward about stuff (an example was in a store, a woman was nagging to a man about me (While I was standing in front of her) that I jumped the queue, which I thought was ridiculous. So I just told her that I thought she was talking with her friend (2 metres from the queue) and just passed them and stepped in line. No need to bash me)
But another example is me not getting what I feel I want/need. Like my pills, or safety. And my way of easily communicating is screaming (Brenda/childish like). Well, it’s totally not an adult way of communicating, but it does (to be honest) explain what goes on in my head. It literally comes out. Fear/anger/frustration/panick/sad/pain, it all comes out in a scream.

To be honest, I don’t think Betty or Brandon appreciate me doing so much research on myself, so I’ve been holding all this inside and not telling them. But I’m getting quite sick of it. Because we may be wasting time on stuff right now, while I may have sorted things out. They may disagree with me, but that’s ok. We can talk about it then. But nooooooooooo, gotta let go of my past. Well sure, but can you tell my head that?

Sure there are a lot of things still very hard for me. I can’t even describe the flashbacks I’m seeing. The things I remember. I can’t even use the Dutch word for abuse. I just can’t get that out of my mouth. Brandon isn’t even allowed to look at me while I vaguely describe things sometimes. He isn’t allowed to call some people abusers.
I guess my head is still in a lot of denial.

Anyway, I guess what I’m feeling is frustration.
Right now the only possible way of dealing feels like throwing in a few oxazepam and numbing myself out (btw, I noticed, whenever I mention medication in my posts, I get a TON of spam!! Last time, I had 931 spam comments, in a week! All add’s (full of virus probably) on how to get medication)

xoxo
Brianna

Disconnected from my body

Hi,

I don’t really know if I have written about this yet but I kind of wanted to sort thing out for myself and maybe help someone else with this.

I do think because of the abuse (of which I still have a lot of trouble going in to or even writing about it in detail) I have disconnected myself from my body. I actually don’t remember any different. I have always had a perfectly trained outside for social activities, as well as when I got forced into therapy. I remember reading back how they were surprised of not seeing any emotion on my face and how my voice was monotone all the time. I could talk about murdering people and keep a straight face, with a monotone voice. Which was shocking to them.
I never really connected with my body, looking back now. I did play sports, the one thing I truly loved (and still do) is field hockey and actually it’s the only sport I can really enjoy.

Other forms of exercise mostly trigger me, especially because I get aware of this body beneath my head.
To me, the ideal situation would be me just having a floating head. Unfortunately that’s not possible.

However not being aware of this body for more than 20 years has led to some stuff. Now when I do get aware of it, by for instance tummy-ache, or the flu, or simple tingle somewhere, it’s a trigger. My head explodes on the inside and everything becomes chaos, trying to push away whatever we’re feeling, because ‘OMG WE JUST FELT A FOOT’. It sounds ridiculous, but it’s very annoying. Of course things like a foot are less likely to trigger than for instant my tummy or a private part.

Whenever someone touches me, it can be an instant trigger as well. To be honest I do shake people’s hands. Which is ok, I don’t really like it, but ok. I do dislike having to kiss people on the cheek while greeting them. (I was raised in a very polite family in which I always had to do as I was told, and had to be the politest girl ever, so if the person wanted 3 kisses, I had to give three kisses.)
Most of the time the touching is ok right now, my mother is still a very tricky one, she can accidentally touch my foot (with her foot) and the whole chaos starts in my head (which triggers me and it can take an hour or sometimes 1,5 for me to calm down, but in the mean time, I have to play pretend with her, while avoiding all the physical interaction).

Right now there are literally 2 people in the world, who’s touch always has felt save. One of them was a girl at therapy (who left last year), we would hold each others hands when things would get rough and just squeeze in it, and I’d know she would tell me with the squeeze ‘I’m here, hold on’.. and I’d do the same with her. No words were needed. I would just reach out my hand.
The other person is Abraham, unfortunately I still see him as a save person and a save place on this earth. Someone who I can crawl into whenever it just gets too scary out here.

I don’t have any control over the tingling sensations in my body, it can be something in my face, on my arm, really anything. And yet everything can trigger me. It can happen anytime.

I never really realized how disconnected I was from my body, how much I had separated my head from my body. Until I realized all the small triggers that come forth from something simple as feeling my body.

xoxo
Brianna