sidptitala
MyPTSD Pro
I feel so unreal. My housemate moved out this morning (this was planned). i will be alone for the next week.
yesterday i went to see a counsellor. we talked about stuff that i know really happened. a little over a year ago i worked in a conflict zone, with a priest- and he was doing creepy stuff like trying to sleep next to me and looking through my underwear. i told our employers and they made him leave.
a year ago today when i was at work we turned a street corner and happened upon some soldiers killing a boy. i knew he was dead already because of how gently the paramedics were lifting him away from the soldiers, who were just standing there like they didn't care. they didn't care, they didn't even notice a dead, unarmed boy. but they noticed us and ran after us, pointing their guns. i didn't feel myself running, or dragging a colleague with me. but i did run, and i dragged him with me.
about 2 weeks later we trained new people in and one of them asked about the dead boy, if we saw him. someone told her i did and her sympathy for me shocked me. i felt empty and numb, and it seemed like such a long time ago.
after that everything was crazy. working, new places, never sleeping.
when life settled down the flashbacks started. and the dreams about being raped as a child. i had one dream like that before but had it again. and then it was part of the flashbacks too, i was running, suffocating, being pierced, being squashed, trying to scream and not being able to, trying to thrash and not being able to move. those awful rape dreams came to life and fused with running from soldiers- i was the boy being killed and the adult who ran from it, and the child who was raped. all the emergency feelings all jumbled together.
there's still an unreality to all those things when i'm not actively feeling them. if it's not happening again now it's like it never happened.
but yesterday i talked about something i know happened. even if its on the border of emergency and non-emergency me- i know it happened, even if i left my body a bit. i know when the priest came in while i was sleeping he definitely ignored me when i asked if he was ok, even if his ignoring me made me feel unreal at the time. even when his later behaviour gave me the same dread and image of a scene i never want to think about from my childhood. i thought about it and decided, i don't think he's going to rape me because he knows he won't get away with it. i don't think he's like my dad, who would. i didn't and don't know that my dad did this, but my emergency thoughts think it happened.
i told the counsellor about something i know happened. when i was around teenage years my dad came into me in the shower. it was unexpected and i felt too old, he never did this. we never had any physical contact that wasn't violent. he was checking my hair for shampoo and brushing it, while i shrank from him because i didn't want him to see my body. i felt like something terrible would happen if i did, that my body would provoke him in some way, and so would covering myself, and so would asking him to leave. this scene came back to me when i had to assess whether i thought the priest would rape me. my emergency thoughts said something like, he would't unlike your dad, who would.
my non emergency thoughts still don't have evidence my dad raped me. because there is none. i said so many things during emergency mode about the priest that make me think maybe my dad did rape me, just like in the dream, and like the flashbacks it grew into as well. but yesterday i only talked about things i know happened. and today i feel so unreal. and awful.
awful and unreal about dead and undead children. the child i saw and the child i was. who is still the child i am underneath it all.
yesterday i went to see a counsellor. we talked about stuff that i know really happened. a little over a year ago i worked in a conflict zone, with a priest- and he was doing creepy stuff like trying to sleep next to me and looking through my underwear. i told our employers and they made him leave.
a year ago today when i was at work we turned a street corner and happened upon some soldiers killing a boy. i knew he was dead already because of how gently the paramedics were lifting him away from the soldiers, who were just standing there like they didn't care. they didn't care, they didn't even notice a dead, unarmed boy. but they noticed us and ran after us, pointing their guns. i didn't feel myself running, or dragging a colleague with me. but i did run, and i dragged him with me.
about 2 weeks later we trained new people in and one of them asked about the dead boy, if we saw him. someone told her i did and her sympathy for me shocked me. i felt empty and numb, and it seemed like such a long time ago.
after that everything was crazy. working, new places, never sleeping.
when life settled down the flashbacks started. and the dreams about being raped as a child. i had one dream like that before but had it again. and then it was part of the flashbacks too, i was running, suffocating, being pierced, being squashed, trying to scream and not being able to, trying to thrash and not being able to move. those awful rape dreams came to life and fused with running from soldiers- i was the boy being killed and the adult who ran from it, and the child who was raped. all the emergency feelings all jumbled together.
there's still an unreality to all those things when i'm not actively feeling them. if it's not happening again now it's like it never happened.
but yesterday i talked about something i know happened. even if its on the border of emergency and non-emergency me- i know it happened, even if i left my body a bit. i know when the priest came in while i was sleeping he definitely ignored me when i asked if he was ok, even if his ignoring me made me feel unreal at the time. even when his later behaviour gave me the same dread and image of a scene i never want to think about from my childhood. i thought about it and decided, i don't think he's going to rape me because he knows he won't get away with it. i don't think he's like my dad, who would. i didn't and don't know that my dad did this, but my emergency thoughts think it happened.
i told the counsellor about something i know happened. when i was around teenage years my dad came into me in the shower. it was unexpected and i felt too old, he never did this. we never had any physical contact that wasn't violent. he was checking my hair for shampoo and brushing it, while i shrank from him because i didn't want him to see my body. i felt like something terrible would happen if i did, that my body would provoke him in some way, and so would covering myself, and so would asking him to leave. this scene came back to me when i had to assess whether i thought the priest would rape me. my emergency thoughts said something like, he would't unlike your dad, who would.
my non emergency thoughts still don't have evidence my dad raped me. because there is none. i said so many things during emergency mode about the priest that make me think maybe my dad did rape me, just like in the dream, and like the flashbacks it grew into as well. but yesterday i only talked about things i know happened. and today i feel so unreal. and awful.
awful and unreal about dead and undead children. the child i saw and the child i was. who is still the child i am underneath it all.
Sometimes? We NEED that distancing, in order to stay sane, and come back into focus. Other times? It’s like drowning, and if we down take every opportunity to get present, as quickly as possible, it’s getting sucked into a whirlpool of depression, dysregulation, dissociative hellscapes.
