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Windstorm......

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pamcoco

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My life feels completely futile.

No matter what direction I turn, how many hours I work, how much I free things I once treasured, the wind is in my face. On a great day the wind only chaps my lips and dries my throat. On a bad day the wind is a force that blows me backwards and gusts overturn every shelter I meekly seek.

It seems that my damage and deterioration are beyond my control. My fate predetermined. I am tired, exhausted really. I am stubborn beyond belief and only relent when the last lifeboat is reaching a distance beyond my swimming skills. It seems like there is no longer a lifeboat in sight.

Everyone needs something to hold onto, enough that just tips the scales toward survival. My health is crumbling, bad becoming worse. My business is at a standstill even though I work many hours daily, still I can't buy food today. My mental health eludes me, sick and without money to sustain myself, the much needed focus on the trauma, depression and disassociation cannot be my focus, in spite of the SI that has not relented in several years. Certainly I have to eat.

There is no one. Their frustrations escalated to a degree of exile before I even had a memory. I lost time for a little over 3 years after the assaults, I have no idea what I did or said. I woke up a bit with no idea of my age or what year it was. They already had written me off. My family, spitting venom that I finally learned to avoid for survival. Friends, turned out were not. Soothing from my mother now consists of her explaining my failures, like her point that if I had openly shared anal penetration maybe people would have had some sympathy for me.

Alone, I push on, futilely.
 
Bamboo does well in a wind storm. It is strong and yet still bends to remain unbroken.

My body is my temple. When it is violated, it is the worst thing that can happen. It isn't as easy to throw the bad things out, the damage is done.

You may be physically alone, but you are not alone in this storm. I wish I had better words of support.
 
You're not alone here.

"The tree may prefer calm
But the wind will not subside"
- Chinese Proverb

Have you ever been in the mountains or forest and seen a gnarled tree, like the one I use for my avatar? They've suffered much from wind, avalanche, etc. but they're still alive and still beautiful.

Tell us you're story if you feel up to it. We'll listen, provide support, and not judge.
 
We are here to supply the life jacket while you drift towards the lifeboat. Rest in the jacket while we swim with you to the lifeboat.
 
I am still in Mammoth and am in the process of renting my Venice home out for a year, so guess I will remain in Mammoth for a while. It has been a sad realization that I cannot afford to move home. I am in no condition for major decisions so continue to hang onto my house until I am in a better place. I have enormous pressure to sell from friends and family because they are star struck by the equity. But it is my only savings and I need a clear mind to make decisions about such huge matters. I cannot trust anyone else to have my best interest in mind when it comes to large sums of money. I am penniless, which makes no sense of course and they tell me I have to sell in order to have funds to care for myself, especially physically and mentally. But it is not funds that have kept healing at bay it is the complicated interaction between my ptsd, illness and resources. So disassociated for several years to near blackout, I am grateful I had the wherewithal to insist on keeping my home. Lord knows what would have become of the money in my state and my families greediness and I am not out of the woods yet.

But since the assaults, I now have trouble with meeting new people and have a complicated system of denial to never quite show up. It is a bit exacerbated with anything even slightly health related, mental, physical, emotional health since one of my assaults was by my gyn and it is impossible for me to go near anything doctorish. This is a problem because as I have mentioned my health is failing in all ways.

There is a local support agency for women and victims of rape and I keep meaning to go in, but it never quite happens. I today contacted them to explain my avoidance to see if they have any suggestions.

Obviously this is not their issue to solve, but I realize if I don't address it I will never enter the doors of the support center. Fearful I will be triggered, shake and cry even to just say hello, this adds to my shame, increasing the feeling that I am a martian. I am not sure how to manage this aspect of ptsd but am open to suggestions if you have any.

I am sad that I am here, away from my home and away from my few friends and comfortable surroundings. But I am beginning to let in that it is not short term and I have to find health care. I have to find support for the ptsd and also hopefully, support to go to local doctors. I am on a short time frame with my teeth and know I am soon crossing the point of saving them. Then of course I need help with the loss of my hearing and also general care for the building auto-immune disease. But I accept I cannot go to doctors alone. I will not. No matter how much I tell myself I will, it doesn't happen and time is ticking.

It feels like I missed the course of being a well adjusted normal human being. Like somehow I forgot to enroll in some key learning subjects. As normality crosses by the window in the loft I long to know even a moment of the simplicity they seem to experience.

 
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