I saw my therapist yesterday. We talked about the email that I had sent her. Which was the same blog post I wrote last week about my trauma. I was terrified to talk about it. But she led me through it, and supported me the whole way through. It was tough. When talking about my trauma are the moments when I have the most trouble finding my voice, which makes sense I guess. I don't want to get into details on my blog. I don't really like to go into details about my abuse on the internet. Only 4 people in the world know exactly everything that happened. That would be me, the people who abused me, my current therapist, and my therapist from Remuda.
But it was a really hard session. I told her something I have never spoken of before. Something I beat myself up for. I realize that I still hold on to a lot of shame. I still blame myself. My therapist talked about how it was not my fault. My reaction of being paralyzed physically and emotionally, was something that occurs quite often to abuse victims. When she said that, it made sense. I can understand that. But I feel like I still need to get to the point where I can say to myself, "I did everything I could in those moments. I was just a little girl. It was his fault, not mine." I think I can get there one day. It will just take time.
I told my therapist about how lately I have been wanting to go back to the place it occurred. She thinks it's a good idea. She mentioned that maybe we can take a field trip together to do that one day. I might take her up on that offer if she truly meant it. I think it would be good to go back there and remember all the good things that happened there, not just the terrible things. I think I would be able to make peace with it, to forgive myself, to take a step further in my healing process.
I left therapy feeling better. But it didn't last long. I got to my first job and my anxiety re-surfaced. I was a mess. No appetite, trembling, unable to breathe, exhausted. I was miserable. I went to my second job, the house to babysit the kids. I had about 20 minutes before I had to walk up to the bus stop. So I did something that my therapist had suggested in our session that day. I laid down on the couch, put on my favorite relaxing Pandora station on my iPod touch, and tried to take some deep breaths. Within about a minute I was crying. I thought about how much I loathe talking about my trauma, even though I know it's what I need to do in order to fully heal. I thought about how much I just want to ignore it and run away from it. And then I started crying more because of how much I hate my anxiety. It's the worst feeling in the world in my opinion. I don't just suffer from your normal anxiety. I have an anxiety disorder and it absolutely sucks. It's more than just a feeling in your head, it attacks my body. Anxiety scares me more than any other feeling. It just pisses me off when it gets this bad. It makes me so angry. And so I was crying because I just want it to go away. And then I started crying because I was missing my grandmother. She passed away 11 years ago, but I guess talking about the abuse (which happened a year before she passed away) made me think of her. At this point I was practically sobbing. I had to pull myself together and go walk up to the bus stop. I was breathing easier, and my anxiety had decreased. And the cold weather outside was soothing. I was doing pretty well all throughout the rest of my time babysitting. And then when it was time to go home, my anxiety popped back up. It wasn't so much anxiety as it was, just pure exhaustion and sadness and being overwhelmed. I had already taken my as needed Klonopin dose when I got to work. And then when I got back to my house I took another dose. I'm allowed to take up to 3 a day, so it's no biggie that I took two. So I put on my sweatpants and hoodie and crawled under my covers and fell asleep. I slept for the next 4 hours. When I woke up, my anxiety was gone, but I started crying again. I stayed awake for a couple hours and then wrote an email to my therapist (the second one that day) and then went back to sleep.
Today has been better. No crying, almost though. My anxiety has been better, but not all the way gone. I was able to eat lunch without almost having a panic attack. Now I'm at my parent's house because we are going to my godmother's surprise birthday part in about an hour. That should be fun. My little sister is home from college this weekend, and it will be nice to see family tonight. I'm not too worried about the food. Hopefully it won't cause a lot of anxiety.
I texted one of my best friends, Michelle, today. I love that girl. She was at the walk last weekend. She told me how great of a week she has been having since the walk. I told her about my day yesterday and she was super supportive and understanding and caring. I told her that we HAVE to see each other over Christmas. I can't wait.
I don't have anything going on this weekend. I will probably sleep late both days and spend time with my dogs and my family and watch lots of TV and movies. I am getting a much needed massage on Monday morning from my good friend Karen. And then I have an appointment with my dietitian on Monday night. I am REALLY looking forward to that. I know it will be a good session. I will be opening up to her about my abuse for the first time. She is the most supportive and caring person I know and I know I will feel better after telling her.
That's all for now. My hope and belief in full recovery is still alive. As hard as the past couple of weeks have been, I still feel strong and have a will to fight and survive. It feels great.
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