snappy_turtle
Bronze Member
Breathing is such a challenge right now. I can't fight this feeling of wanting to just disappear. I don't feel safe, and I can't stop crying. I know that if I left, I would leave some very sad people behind, and I wouldn't want to hurt the people that I love and care for; that and having to go to work tomorrow are the only things keeping me here.
It's been almost a year and slowly over time, when I thought I had been paranoid all along, some of my suspicions have come true. It turns out that people HAVE been calling me a liar, a slut, a whore, and other nasty things when they heard about my trauma. I didn't even want others to know about it. The spreading of the news of my trauma was not something I had done and it leaves me uncomfortable knowing that other people who don't even KNOW me have heard of it by word of mouth. Not to mention that my paranoia that the a$$hole who traumatized me was the one who probably spread the rumors of me being a liar, a slut and a whore just so he could defend himself and make me look bad.
He should be so pleased to know that I haven't filed a police report. He should be so happy to know that I just sat back and ate it, ate all the pain and hid it from others I spoke and worked with every day. That I still tried to live a normal life when I feel like broken and damaged goods inside.
Tonight, one of the people in the rumor mill told me that I should just go and kill myself because if I died the world would be a better place. This person and their fellow friend (one of my biggest triggers aside from the a$$hole who is my main and biggest trigger) told me that they think I'm a bitch, a slut, a whore and all these other bad things, and they told my boyfriend to see me for "who I really am".
I need a hole. I need a hole to hide in. I need a tiny little nook to disappear into. Maybe if I just melted into the carpet like the puddle of tears that I have been for the last few hours; maybe then people would leave me alone....no, they'd probably complain about the pool of guts laying around on the floor and how someone should clean it up.
It's been almost a year and slowly over time, when I thought I had been paranoid all along, some of my suspicions have come true. It turns out that people HAVE been calling me a liar, a slut, a whore, and other nasty things when they heard about my trauma. I didn't even want others to know about it. The spreading of the news of my trauma was not something I had done and it leaves me uncomfortable knowing that other people who don't even KNOW me have heard of it by word of mouth. Not to mention that my paranoia that the a$$hole who traumatized me was the one who probably spread the rumors of me being a liar, a slut and a whore just so he could defend himself and make me look bad.
He should be so pleased to know that I haven't filed a police report. He should be so happy to know that I just sat back and ate it, ate all the pain and hid it from others I spoke and worked with every day. That I still tried to live a normal life when I feel like broken and damaged goods inside.
Tonight, one of the people in the rumor mill told me that I should just go and kill myself because if I died the world would be a better place. This person and their fellow friend (one of my biggest triggers aside from the a$$hole who is my main and biggest trigger) told me that they think I'm a bitch, a slut, a whore and all these other bad things, and they told my boyfriend to see me for "who I really am".
I need a hole. I need a hole to hide in. I need a tiny little nook to disappear into. Maybe if I just melted into the carpet like the puddle of tears that I have been for the last few hours; maybe then people would leave me alone....no, they'd probably complain about the pool of guts laying around on the floor and how someone should clean it up.