Thank you to the lovely messages and to the people who are THERE! That's nice. Today I filled in a form to say I can't cope any more. I feel like such a failure. I said it - in writing - but said it anyhow. It's for incapacity benefit. I can't work! I have tried SO hard but I keep tripping and stumbling. If I could just get a break I could recover. I have nothing left to give and now the normal things are slipping. I am Isolating. If I could I would dress like a lady in Saudi Arabia so that no-one would know it was me.... except they would and they'd all say 'Angela... what the hell???'
After my attempt at running my own antique business - it died because I wouldn't have sex with my business partner...
I went on an architecture job a couple of weeks ago. The client who is also the builder, and I met for coffee. That was supposed to be all.
But.... He said... jump in the car and we will go to my workshop. I almost fainted... but I did. And ever since, I am freaking out. I've totally split my personality to cope. He even did the drop off at a lonely barn and stopped the car and said 'this is where i took my last victim.' Ha Ha Ha. Not. Then we drove on to the job.
I sniggered, like a good girl.
Now a normal person could laugh that off but I am going insane. Doesn't he know what happened to me? NO. Of course he doesn't. When I got out of that car I wanted to brutalise myself. I didn't of course. I made dinner for my daughter and put her to bed. Then stared at the TV like a lobotomy patient. Whilst the real film was going on in my head, despite years of successful exposure therapy.
Also... 9Wait for this) I went to a farmers market and a pig had a heart attack and all these men were looking at it and not caring. Its even sort of funny as I write it but not for the poor pig, because it's so ridiculous but I associated with the PIG.... not a pig lying in trauma but me being raped and all these onlookers watching...Immediately I have a flashback and suddenly the whole thing turns out like texas chainsaw massacre.
Not helped by the fact I was with a homeopath who says... your DNA is altered and you will forever attract predators.
Thanks.
Plus I went on a blind date (in an attempt to end my reign of 6 years alone) and the man jumped out on me and grabbed me from behind
plus plus plus
the last date i had turned out to be a paedophile!!!!!!!!!!!
Now back to real life.
I am as pale as flour these days, I can't sleep, eat.
Thank god i have my daughter.
But the letters have been unopened for 3 months, I keep washing clothes then throwing them on my floor.
I have put up curtains to stop the neighbours seeing me.
I am collecting building elements from skips to make a magnificent building in the garden to store all my stock which is in storage.
Will I achieve this?
Hell no!
I can't even load the dishwasher.
Just to finalise my rant....
I am on Citalopram 40mg.
I have been in therapy of all sorts for years and years and years. Meds too.
I am not in therapy now... Can you tell?!! ;)
All this crap has happened in the last few months.
I was gang raped TWENTY years ago. PTSD diagnosed about 12 years ago.
It doesn't go away.
Every time I turn on the TV, or see a paper, or write an email or look on ebay, there is an advert for the main perpetrators business and I want to set the world on fire.
So... phew... to summarise.
SPEAKING. If you do it helps, but being able to is very difficult and even when you do there are very very few who understand.
Finally, I was once very well after therapy for years and was wheeled out to show how good it gets to other PTSD suffererers.
Interestingly, everyone I met had a different trauma source. But by God.... the illness is the same. It is undeniable.
I sympathise with us all.
Thank you for reading my rant of the day.
Angela x
