F*ck.
So I go through extremely annoying phases with my PTSD. I'll be consumed by it for weeks, seeing my attackers face all the time, anxiety through the roof, being unable to get the images of my attack from going over and over in my head.
Then I'll have another few weeks where *poof* I feel fine, but I'm very aware of the fact that I'm not thinking about my attack and I'll feel it slowly slowly creeping up on me.
In the back of my mind it's there like white noise but I ignore it until it starts welling up.
This has been one of those weeks where it's starting to overflow.
I went with my friend to meditate the other night (never tried it before but thought it might help my symptoms) and after sitting for 10 minutes the darkness outside and the eeriness of the woods was eating away at me and I lost it, I had to get out.
The friend I was with doesn't know the extent of my PTSD so I just counted my breathing on the way back to the car then as soon as we were in our seperate cars I had a mother of all panic attacks.
Now today it's welled up again.
Although my boyfriend doesn't put pressure on me to have sex I still feel pressure on me. When I'm not in this frame of mind sex isn't always such a big deal but at the moment it is. Foreplay especially.
Tonight he wanted sex, I said ok even though I was slightly on edge. (Excuse the details) but we were doing the "doggy" position and I fell down onto my front and he on top of me, bam, freaked out and started crying my heart out and apologised.
He cradled me on the bed and I just felt embarrassed and ashamed.
When I was attacked, I was pinned down on my front for some of it and as soon as we came forward fight or flight kicked in and I panicked.
I'm mortified. He cuddled me and was understanding and asked if I was ok over and over but then was the "well at least you got to finish and I didn't this time" and he went for a cigarette, which he only really does when he's stressed or emotional.
I know I shouldn't but I feel ashamed, straight to the comfort food.
I feel bad for him having to deal with this, but I'm frustrated too, living in my head is horrendous, as I'm sure many of you know. F*ck
So I go through extremely annoying phases with my PTSD. I'll be consumed by it for weeks, seeing my attackers face all the time, anxiety through the roof, being unable to get the images of my attack from going over and over in my head.
Then I'll have another few weeks where *poof* I feel fine, but I'm very aware of the fact that I'm not thinking about my attack and I'll feel it slowly slowly creeping up on me.
In the back of my mind it's there like white noise but I ignore it until it starts welling up.
This has been one of those weeks where it's starting to overflow.
I went with my friend to meditate the other night (never tried it before but thought it might help my symptoms) and after sitting for 10 minutes the darkness outside and the eeriness of the woods was eating away at me and I lost it, I had to get out.
The friend I was with doesn't know the extent of my PTSD so I just counted my breathing on the way back to the car then as soon as we were in our seperate cars I had a mother of all panic attacks.
Now today it's welled up again.
Although my boyfriend doesn't put pressure on me to have sex I still feel pressure on me. When I'm not in this frame of mind sex isn't always such a big deal but at the moment it is. Foreplay especially.
Tonight he wanted sex, I said ok even though I was slightly on edge. (Excuse the details) but we were doing the "doggy" position and I fell down onto my front and he on top of me, bam, freaked out and started crying my heart out and apologised.
He cradled me on the bed and I just felt embarrassed and ashamed.
When I was attacked, I was pinned down on my front for some of it and as soon as we came forward fight or flight kicked in and I panicked.
I'm mortified. He cuddled me and was understanding and asked if I was ok over and over but then was the "well at least you got to finish and I didn't this time" and he went for a cigarette, which he only really does when he's stressed or emotional.
I know I shouldn't but I feel ashamed, straight to the comfort food.
I feel bad for him having to deal with this, but I'm frustrated too, living in my head is horrendous, as I'm sure many of you know. F*ck
