I am very nervous about tomorrow. I have gotten very good at avoiding those thoughts and feelings as much as I can, I suppose I am most nervous about the kinds of questions the psychologists might ask me. As soon as I take myself to that place, it's an out of body experience almost, it's as if I can't force myself into a small enough shape, I can't get out of the room fast enough. I know I'll need to face these traumas to become comfortable with them having a permanent place in my memory, but they're poisonous to me now.
I want so badly for this to work. This is simply not what a functional life looks like, I can't go to work, I can't sit in class, I can't hear rape come up casually in conversation without wanting to scream at the person who said it. It's the rapid montage of a million different thoughts and feelings surrounding the event - a fist, a face, a muffled scream, a car door slam, tear gas in the air, feeling as though every bit of resistance has been bled from your body, I feel ready to acknowledge that for now, I can't control this cycle of thought.
I was writing my last Peace Corps essay today and realized how important it was for me to write in a way that sincerely represented who i am - my passions, my beliefs about this world. That's never been significant to me before, misrepresentation, particularly when it involves myself, letting people make judgements about your character because it's easier than explaining. I'm so ready to not feel like joke or blowup doll, to no longer intentionally misrepresent myself because feeling like a blowup doll is much less painful than bearing the weight of secrets.
This will be the most intense and direct approach I've taken with this issue, I know it's going to become more or less a part time job, it needs to be, I want to do things after I graduate, and I won't be able to if a whistle from a passing truck turns me into a tornado. Ready to leave survivor mode and live in a space where my actions and behavior are not an attempt to recapture lost innocence, but rather a place to realize the luxury of having your thoughts to yourself. There is a lot to look forward.
I want so badly for this to work. This is simply not what a functional life looks like, I can't go to work, I can't sit in class, I can't hear rape come up casually in conversation without wanting to scream at the person who said it. It's the rapid montage of a million different thoughts and feelings surrounding the event - a fist, a face, a muffled scream, a car door slam, tear gas in the air, feeling as though every bit of resistance has been bled from your body, I feel ready to acknowledge that for now, I can't control this cycle of thought.
I was writing my last Peace Corps essay today and realized how important it was for me to write in a way that sincerely represented who i am - my passions, my beliefs about this world. That's never been significant to me before, misrepresentation, particularly when it involves myself, letting people make judgements about your character because it's easier than explaining. I'm so ready to not feel like joke or blowup doll, to no longer intentionally misrepresent myself because feeling like a blowup doll is much less painful than bearing the weight of secrets.
This will be the most intense and direct approach I've taken with this issue, I know it's going to become more or less a part time job, it needs to be, I want to do things after I graduate, and I won't be able to if a whistle from a passing truck turns me into a tornado. Ready to leave survivor mode and live in a space where my actions and behavior are not an attempt to recapture lost innocence, but rather a place to realize the luxury of having your thoughts to yourself. There is a lot to look forward.