I will be safe and careful
I do not feel safe. I’m sure now that much of this has to do with how I was treated when I got depressed. My mom would tell me not to tell people. My dad would lock me up in my room without food or water. Luckily I hoarded food and had a sink. One day he turned off the sink though. Brandi would tell me that this is why I sucked and couldn’t make friends. Pedophile would get incredibly quiet. Or get upset if he thought he did it. Hospital straight up tried to kill me. My dad would yell. And threaten.
Basically I have been taught to feel shittier I suppose. But it’s my job to get out of it, despite what the abusers did.
The pharmacy did not have my hormones. They said they might tomorrow. Might.
I don’t think it’s withdraw. It’s a mild medication. I think this is a mix of being overwhelmed without a good enough coping skill to handle the fear of getting killed violently (I use prescription drugs and Nestle), of being overwhelmed by more than a handful of triggers in a very short amount of time, and also having a taste of feeing safe when I went back to University to visit friends and the hospital, then came back here to this house. And saw the crack in the door from when my dad tried to kill my mom that night. Also being forced to hide it. I do not want to share with my mom.
I wish she’d left him earlier. I don’t know why she froze up so much. I’m a big f*ckup because of this. And I’m very distressed at my own behavior. There’s a voice in my head who’s very, very, very upset.
I don’t know if this will help you guys understand, but I really hope it helps because I’m very sorry (sorry
@Freida) that I’ve been acting strange. But when I get very depressed, which last happened for me in 2015, I lose my hearing if that’s how best to put it. I can’t hear the colors right. People start sounding like monsters and it’s harder to recognize them. Last time that happened, nurses almost killed me. And the dullness reminds me of the pedophile. For reasons I don’t want to talk about. That was when my mom almost died from my dad’s efforts that were so calculated that the police say they can’t charge him.
Anyway, I will try to relax. I did the papers and the recording. The recording was awkward because I broke down in the middle of it for what looked like no reason I’m sure.
Police told me not to touch the paper and I lied to my mom about technology not working here so she’d wait to come home. Police said there have been lots of hate flyers going around.
I was unable to get in touch with my therapist. Long story. I will try again tomorrow. I don’t want to spend a holiday in the hospital. This time of year is not cheery in a hospital. I am also afraid my therapist will tell my mom that I’m not doing well, as she told my mom I was doing well last time we talked. I am scared of my mom reacting. I never learned to trust her even when she said “no secrets” when I was a teen. She said I shouldn’t have hidden the rape. Her reaction was awful. Not mean at all. It haunts my dreams.
I’m still overwhelmed I think. There was a shooting in the grocery store I go to and I’m really shaken and not over it. Which makes me angry because I don’t want to care. And the pharmacy is in that store and is low on everything.
Maybe there was a particularly terrible effect on the synesthesia from the medication I’m rationing. I doubt that would lead me to violent thoughts that aren’t mine, or the thoughts that aren’t real. But I don’t want to figure it out right now, my head hurts so badly that I’m seeing white stars.
