Being raised by therapists

Hi,

A very tricky part for me is to explain what trauma does to a developing brain. I’m really not good at it. I’m going to try to give it a shot.
The abuse has been in my childhood for as long as I can remember, and experiencing trauma creates a stagnation in emotional development. So basically, as I see it, I do grow up and learn to talk and stuff, but emotionally I was stuck at the age of trauma. (which also explains the big troubles with emotions, children can not deal with emotions > trauma happened to me at a very young age > stagnation > emotional child)

Anyway, what I wanted to talk about or actually write/type… I feel like I am being raised by therapists. I remember getting into a therapy group when I was 16 and leaving at 17, I was there for 13 months and they taught me some few minimal basic stuff. Like when I was feeling something, I really did not know what the word was, that went with the feeling. They learned me, it was disappointment. It took me 13 months to learn the word disappointment with the feeling (and I’m not even talking about mentioning it while I’m feeling it huh 😉 )

It’s all these kind of small things, that therapists are teaching me. And actually I’m going from therapist to therapist, just switching and hopping from one to another. Bonding and breaking the bond.. hop on, op off.. 😉

Today I had my final talk with Betty (which means I will never see her again) and she asked me what I learned in my 18 months at the treatment centre there, the question was referred to the contact between me and my mother. I told her that I learned to apologize for my behaviour to my mother.
It’s a known fact that my mother irritates me sometimes, mostly it relates to my youth and it’s triggering. Which makes me burst and scream at her.
It took me (yep…) 18 months to learn to communicate with her and to tell her later on (when I’m calm again) ‘sorry momma for yelling at you, I was upset because of ……… but I didn’t mean to yell’
They told my mother to tell me what my yelling does with her and how it makes her feel and to accept my apology.
After that, we’re good again.
(Side note; my age is 22)

I also learned that apologizing for my behaviour does not mean apologizing for my feelings, because that’s not necessary. It’s just feeling angry does not give me the right to yell at my mother and I need to take responsibility for my actions. (Wow, they taught me well 😉 )

So, my biological mother and father can’t give me the parenting I need. But I sometimes really feel like I’ve got a lot of mothers (because most of my therapists are women) and a few dads. They do parent me. I just don’t get to keep them. Which is a shame sometimes.

xoxo
Brianna

Why does recovery take so long with childhood trauma?

Hi,

I kind of wanted to write something from my point of view about why recovery takes ‘so long’ with childhood trauma. Of course the ‘so long’ part actually is often called so long in other people’s eyes, but to be honest, I think it’s taking too long sometimes as well.

This is all written from my point of view and also my experience. So I am only speaking for myself.
In my situation, the trauma started at a very young age, I don’t remember a time where I wasn’t living in a traumatic situation. I know, and have been told that the physical abuse was always a part of my life. As well as the emotional neglect.

As a child, I was being raised by my parents. A little by my environment and school and stuff. But mainly my parents. They form me. Like you can form clay, a child is very flexible, as the child grows older (the clay gets harder) and it’s it takes a form. The form which is set by the parents.

I often see it as programmed. I have been programmed a certain way. Some of my core beliefs are very hard and a result from trauma, for instance, my father is ‘the king’ and I must please him, no matter what (it costs me).

Of course as I grow older, or as the child grows older, I do start thinking on my own, and when I was 15 I got ‘rescued’ out of my home situation, and especially my thinking (rational) part could start to adapt more. It could start to adapt more to the law. For instance about what is right and wrong, no matter if it’s your father, uncle, neighbor, mother, grandmother or a stranger.
But, here is the twist, my hard drive/program/core belief is still the same. I am still, emotionally, the same shape as I was knead by my parents.

So my head can say ‘it’s ridiculous to please your father, if it’s that damaging to myself’, but deep down inside, I feel I still need to please him.

I understand all the things people are saying. Logically I do. Phrases like ‘snap out of it’/’don’t you get it?’ are jus not relevant. Because I do.
It takes a lot of time (and pain) for the original form to maybe even break down and build up again.

Right now I’m feeling that I am moving a little bit more forward, but that took a long time! And to be honest, rationally I may not know anything much different than one or two years ago. But people around me held on, believed in me, supported me, kept showing me what was right… and I guess that really helped.

So why does it take so long?
It takes long because I was programmed this way, and it takes a long time to reprogram. It’s not impossible. It just takes time, effort, patience.

I am beyond thankful for the people in my life who are showing me this precious light that I feel I never knew, it’s so pretty. It confuses me because I feel I don’t deserve it, and yet they keep on showing it. It brings me to tears, brings me confusion, brings me love, brings me pain, but most of all, brings me joy.
Thank you.

xoxo
Brianna

Seroquel/Quetiapine – My caretaker

Hi,

Obsessive as I am, or maybe it’s a little bit nicer to say ‘observing’ as I am ( 😉 ), I think I know why I tend to take my crisis medication (which is seroquel XR (also known as quetiapine)) sometimes and sometimes I really DON’T want it, although I can feel really horrible.

I’ve talked about me (Brianna) and the other me part, who is like a child part of me (Brenda). Well.. I think, and to be clear, this is what I think, that when I’m mainly thinking like Brianna, I will not take my crisis medication. Because I want to deal with this on my own. I don’t want to numb out, I don’t want the medication to knock me out into a sleep (which it does), I want do this on my own. Even if it means me losing something (like, self harm or something like that).

When I’m thinking more like Brenda, I long for the medication. The medication is my ‘mother’ who takes care of me. Who calms me down. Who puts me to bed and makes sure, everything will be ok for now.

Brenda-thinking only happens when I’m very triggered. Like saturday with the police, it was absolutely no problem to take the crisis medication.
However, before the police came, I was feeling like shit and suicidal as well… But there wasn’t a part of me thinking about taking the medication, I wanted to take care of this on my own! I don’t want to be knocked out! It doesn’t solve a thing! I get angry at people telling me ‘go get your seroquel’….. like; NO. That’s easy, because I’ll be off your back for a while. But the problem will still be here when I wake up.

But when I’m in a total Brenda modus.. Seroquel? Yes please!!!! *happy face*

Seroquel is the caretaker, for Brenda.
But definitely NOT for me.

Right now (today) I’m doing pretty ok actually. I’m keeping myself busy with working on my poem book (I’m making a book of my poems, and decorating each page with something! It’s distracting and calms me down. So I guess it’s a win-win!)

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

Brianna & Brenda

Hi,

With every thing happening it seems it’s becoming more clear how my adult, rational part is deciding (me, Brianna). But also how the childpart of me still wants attention and needs help (with everything) and is stuck in her place due to the trauma (Brenda).

Yesterday I went to another city in Holland which is a big deal for me because I have had social anxiety issue’s in the past. I got on the train and was very nervous.
When I actually arrived at my destination, I didn’t know that station very well, it’s being rebuilt etc, I got into a little panick situation.

There were A LOT of people traveling and just going back and forth from platforms and just trying to make their own destinations. I was standing on the side, trying to calm myself down. But to be honest, I felt like Simba (you know, from the Lion king, when all those animals came down at him?). They were like a herd, rushing my way. Brenda panicked like crazy. Of course, there is not really any time to take account for personal space, but even when there was enough metres left, people kept brushing up against me. Against my back. I felt so intimidated.
Brenda was screaming in my head, yelling for safety. I was texting with my mother. Everytime the ‘herd’ was reducing, suddenly, it increased again. All I could think of was ‘oh God, not again, how am I gonna survive this?!’ The tears were knocking behind my eyeballs to come out, but I refused. I couldn’t start crying in the middle of the train station?!

I felt really alone, Brenda screaming. Unsafe. ‘Far away’ from home. I couldn’t think clearly.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t handle it and burst into tears.

I have talked about tendency’s earlier, (tendency’s like, not knowing how to say how I’m feeling, but only knowing what to do, like stamping my feet, or just sitting on the ground and waiting for someone to pick me up)
Well, another lovely tendency came up. I thought, or maybe Brenda thought, if I just go lie down on the track/railroad, the railway police will come and pick me up and get me somewhere save. (It’s crazy right?! And me, Brianna, knew somewhere far in my head, that save place was a cell, because they’ll think I’m suicidal and lock me up there) but I was so fixated on someone getting me out of there, because I can’t do anything myself.

Magically, the herd stopped, or the train left with the herd in it. And I found a train home, called up my mum to pick me up from the train station in my own city. I made it as save as possible. When I got into the train, I sat next to the train driver’s booth (as that felt as the safest place).

I ended up having a great day, I met with Justy (whom I met here on wordpress 🙂 ! ) and luckily I tend to label the whole day as it ended, so my Saturday was amazing.

But sometimes I do worry, what if I give in to the ‘helpless-Brenda-thoughts’?
Like the last blogpost about the topomax, I did end up going to the emergency pharmacy, but my mum wouldn’t let me go in. She knew when I got in, I might end up screaming my head off till I got my medicine. Which is just not an adult way of communicating. But me (in a Brenda-way) trying to communicate my frustrations of not having my medication and being afraid (terrified) of going into the night/weekend without etc. But they would just not accept that, which is logical, because after all there is an adult woman standing in front of them.
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

Foggy mind

Hi,

I am going to try to write how the confusion in my head takes place.
I don’t know if this is due to the dissociation/triggers/flashbacks or just stupidity (well, I know it’s not that, but I just thought it’d be funny to say that).

I know a day is just a day, with 24 hours in it.

But honestly, I don’t know if I ever make the 24 hours. My body is there, here, in the present, here on the couch in 2014. But my mind/spirit/head (whatever you want to call it), floats off, leaving my body, staring into the distance, and my mind leaves me, I can not follow where it’s going, it leaves into forgetfulness. Sometimes I wish it would just stay there, because whenever it comes back (which it always does), it comes back hurt. Broken, full of pain, triggered. I find myself depressed, sometimes I start to cry, sometimes flashbacks start coming, sometimes self loathe washes over me, sometimes triggers come out of nowhere (things I that just can’t, like the smell of my father, I just had it 30 minutes ago (had to pause writing this actually), he’s not here, and hasn’t been here). I don’t know where my mind has been.

Sometimes a day, which technically has 24 hours, feels like 2 day’s. Sometimes when my mind comes back, I remember.. or actually notice I have to go to the toilet very urgent. Or I am very hungry. Sometimes my muscles are painful. Most of the times I am exhausted.

I do try to stay in the present by doing things. I really do! My mind is something I can not seem to grab or hold on to, it comes and goes and slips through anything. It takes back terrible things I do not want to remember. It leaves me here sitting on the couch like a dead casket. Lately, when my mind comes back, I realize, I’m freezing cold.

My tummy aches, body memories I guess. Brenda screams, or just cries silently with her security blanket covered over her mouth.

But I do try to stay in the present, by for instance reading stuff, but even reading can be hard. Just reading a simple sentence, just reading the words, and have my head define the words into meaningful things that are understandable. Sometimes I find myself reading 1 simple sentence over and over again. I can try to make a conversation with people, but as you can see (especially face to face this is terrible!) it is very hard. In real life, I am often too ashamed to keep asking ‘what?’

I’ve been in this state since friday. Since that trigger. I’ve been having triggers all over the place. My mind has been floating in and out. I haven’t even showered in 2 weeks (nasty right? I am so terrified to even go into the bathroom).

Ah, just daily life. Staying in the present is hard enough. Trying to live is hard enough. Trying to meet my body’s ‘needs’ (eat/drink/toilet) is hard enough.

xoxo
Brianna

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I don’t even know what to say

Hi,

As today is monday, I had therapy.

It started out quite chaotic. I didn’t sleep well, and I got a call in the morning from the cab company that the taxi would be 20 minutes late (remember my last post? “I seem like a normal girl, on the outside”), since I knew my last reaction to the whole taxi-is-late, I tried to calm myself down with the thoughts of how it all turned out last time and it was okay to be late and I’d be able to get enough out of the therapy day in the end. (For me at that time it was very important to be at the beginning, because we discuss the weekend and to be honest, I really wanted to talk about mine, since I had a hard time, just in the hope that someone would notice me).

The taxi arrived (45 minutes late) and when I got at therapy I got in time to discuss my weekend after all! Only got stressed out a little so that’s a huge improvement from last time! 🙂
After that we had psycho-education. The topic was intimacy and trust. Well it’s not just the words that make me shiver. It was all very confronting, and I do remember the first few things said, and that it really felt like smack in the face (I even remember thinking at some point “Oh, I want to copy this into my blog! Because I really recognize myself in this!”), I did mention out loud that it was hard for me to read this because it was so confronting.

At the end of the whole psycho-education, Brenda was screaming her lungs out. The topic was something about sexuality and touching and… UGH. I just couldn’t keep control. I do remember someone asking me if I was still there with them, and I just don’t really know what happened, at some point I do remember looking her in the eyes and just being scared and not knowing how to use my voice and not wanting to use my voice. Afraid to talk. Afraid to even open up my mouth.
I walked out of the therapy room (away from the group, the therapist asked me if it would be good for me to take a walk, just to stay in the present).

I just don’t know where I went wrong. I remember being in the bathroom. With my head against the door and just pressing my fist against my mouth.
My head was all fuzzy.

Anyway, the whole day was weird and cloudy. I got the feeling that the therapists are mad at me and they don’t really like me. At the end of the day (which I struggled to get through, and often doubted if I should go ask for an individual talk) I just gave up and decided to go play nice and just go home. When it was my turn to talk about the day I said; “My day was okay! Tomorrow I’ll see Polly, and I’ll be here again on Wednesday”. And then the therapist asked me if I really was ok, and the whole thing sort of came out. No, I wasn’t ok. I felt horrible.

I felt and still feel like you all hate me! (I didn’t say that though, like they’d admit that to my face)

Did tell her I felt horrible and she told me she was glad I told the truth because she thought I felt bad.

Anyway, I still feel horrible. I feel so disconnected from my body. If I could describe it. My head is about 4 meters above the laptop, and above this body and these weird hands are typing this. I feel this weird feeling in the back of my head/neck and I don’t know.
xoxo
Brianna

PTSD is taking all of my energy

Hi,

So today had to be a normal day.
But even the most normal things are hard for me to do.

Big troubles with anxiety, flashbacks and dissociation today and I feel totally worn out right now. I’m ready to start crying like a baby and scream till someone comes and picks me up and takes me to bed.

PTSD is taking all of my energy. I feel  I can’t afford to slip much further.. I feel drained. Like I’ve been tapped… Someone has taken all of my blood but somehow still expects me to keep on living.
And the fun part is.. I get to sleep now, but sleep + night-time, never really means rest to me. So probably around 7 am (when it’s a little lighter outside) I’ll get some good sleep, till hopefully noon. And then, survive the saturday…

Is it over yet?
Can I open my eyes?
Is this as hard as it gets… ?

xoxo
Brianna

Arghh

Hi,

Wrote a whole post about how I’m feeling and then I realized…… it’s stupid, because it’s about how lonely I feel and it’s all I can write about. So I just put it as draft.
I’ll state it here, short but powerful; I’m lonely.

So now that’s off my chest.
I had a little fight with my sister.

She used to call me a stalker and stuff like that, because I could get so caught up in the people I like. I found this thing on the internet about a little description about people like that and stuff, and I send it to her, asked her wat she thought of it.

She was all like ‘I think everyone is obsessive in some way’ BALBLALBALBALBLALLBALBLLALBAL. So, yeah sure, but that’s not the point. It’s a problem when it stands in the way of things. Otherwise everyone has OCD, everyone has PTSD, everyone has BPD, everyone is psychotic! Jeez -_-
She got all ‘know it all’ because she studied a form of psychology.
Then she said ‘with you it’s just insecurity’ ………………….. oh, I’m sorry, I can’t remember you taking some psychologic tests with me. I’m JUST insecure? If that’s the problem, well then there is no problem

THAT STUPID GIRL WAS BLABBING STUFF ABOUT HOW SHE COULDN’T HANDLE HEARING ABOUT MY PAST AND STUFF BECAUSE IT HURT HER SO BAD.

and now she freaking denies everything by saying I’m just insecure.

I can’t remember telling here what goes on in my mind, BECAUSE SHE FREAKING PUTS ME DOWN FOR IT.

Last I told her something about 5 months earlier involving Abraham. And she said ‘Jeez, you’re not contact him are you?’ SORRY TROLL FOR WANTING TO CONTACT SOMEONE WHO HELPED ME. Unlike you 
Who does she think she is??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Bullshit when she said she thinks I’m having such a hard time. Freaking ass kissing.
Every time when I mention a boy’s name (it was someone who was on TV on The voice) she says ‘Who the fuck is that?’ or something like ‘Oh jesus, someone else again?’

Sorry miss PERFECT. I don’t have  FIANCEE who PAYS every damn thing for me. Who accepts my AWFUL personality. BRAINS TO FUCKING STUDY. SIzE DAMN 0 (size zero) WITH THE PERFECT CLOTHES. The ability to straighten that STUPID ASS HAIR. An Iphone, Ipad, Laptop, big ass TV prescription, super fast internet speed, SUPPORT AROUND ME.

I do agree, we should not diagnose everything, or make up a diagnose for everything. Because then nobody would be normal. Some things are just character or personality.

She doesn’t even know it’s the SECOND damn week, I have cried EVERY day, MULTIPLE times about being LONELY. Before that I was cutting the shit out of myself. And my memory doesn’t go far back, but I guess I was feeling very lonely before that (cutting) period as well.

I don’t tell her this stuff, because she’ll just be all ‘sad’ because I’m going through this. So I can’t even tell her, because she can’t handle it. And now I don’t, she thinks she knows me by calling me  ‘just insecure’ SWEETY, I WISH I WAS JUST INSECURE.

I am crying my ass of right now, begging in my head for someone to kill me, begging for mercy in some way. I HATE feeling misunderstood. It is just NOT that simple. Does she think I like sitting at home? Does she think I like being this FUCKING FAT? Does she think I like being this UGLY? Well I don’t.

 

MY HEART IS BROKEN.

Broken by life. Broken by this horrible world we live in.

I feel so damn alone.

By the way, I saw this wordpress blog post (the one that brought this whole thing up);
http://childhoodtraumarecovery.com/2013/11/21/childhood-trauma-and-obsessive-love-disorder/

Then I searched on the internet for it, and found this wikipedia stuff;
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Obsessive_love
And the wikipedia stuff is what I showed my sister.

Of course I do not think I have this disorder, it’s not even an official disorder. Like I said earlier in my blog, I guess the complex part about Complex PTSD, is that it looks like so much things (borderline, bipolar, ddnos, ptsd, psychosis, depression, anxiety) but it isn’t, because it’s ‘just’ a result of the trauma. And I was just thinking that the obsessive love thing, might be a small result as well. THAT’S ALL.
But they talk about ‘severe emotional injury’.. what is severe? I don’t think I had severe emotional injury, but just emotional injury.

Anyway, it feels like I should have shut my big mouth. What was I thinking trying to open up?

My sister doesn’t even know about the guys I talk to anymore, she always has negative comments on it! She doesn’t even know I went on a date a few weeks back. Because I know she wouldn’t approve. She’d just get annoyed and maybe even angry with me.

Of course I love her.. but this was just a slap in the face. Not just a slap, but a slap from her. Which made everything more painful.

Maybe not even a slap, but a stump, pushing me back into my cave. As if she’s saying ‘what the hell are you doing out here? Go back!’

She doesn’t need to hate me, I can do that all by myself.

Well.. I guess this is rejection? Or not?
I don’t even care.

Just want rest. Let me do a hibernation. I’ll wake up in April or something like that. Maybe, just MAYBE, I’ll feel a little more rested then, and maybe….. maybe… I’ll have a little more strength. And maybe.. the flame of hope will be lit again. I just don’t have any matches or a lighter left.

I really hope I’ll be done crying soon, than I can go to sleep.

Brianna