I can’t explain my feelings. All I can say is it feels so overwhelming most of the time. It’s just a pain that takes away sleep, conquers the mind, and refuses to leave. It is emptiness and confusion. And I feel like I can’t ask for help, no matter how much I want it.
Even though people know my issues, I still feel that I’m going through this alone. It’s as if no one notices or cares. I am here, but my feelings might as well be invisible to others.
1Maybe part of me doesn’t want to get better. Maybe that’s why I won’t tell anyone that I think I need help. Why I won’t check to see if something is wrong with me. I think I’m also afraid to ask for help. But if I got help and recovered, I still wouldn’t be the same person I used to be, and I think that scares me. They always say after trauma, a person can heal, but maybe I’m setting my hopes too high by constantly wishing I could be like I was before this happened. Because let’s get real, you’re never the same person after experiencing something big in your life. I will never be the same exact person, so I must come to terms with that first. I really just need to be strong and ask for help. Because asking for help is the only way I can recover.
I literally just broke down after my dad told me I had to clean my room. Really wtf. I think I really need help. This is ridiculous. I’m breaking down on stupid stuff like cleaning my room and being told I’m bitter all the time. I can’t fucking help it. I just really want to give up and just lie on the couch under a blanket and cry by myself. I’m so freaking tired of pretending to be ok and putting on an act. I try my best to look as normal as possible, but I just can’t hold everything in all the time. I fucking hate that I was sexually assaulted. I fucking hate that I’m not strong enough to handle this. I know I won’t do anything drastic to deal with this, but I just really don’t want to try anymore.
I don’t think my parents realize that after my thing from January I get really agitated super easily. Like I can’t help it. I just get really upset from nothing or just pointless things. Like my dad told me I’m “always so bitter”. Well fuck. Sorry. I’ve kinda been going through a lot and it gets difficult to handle myself everyday. Like I know I’m not always the most cheerful person. I haven’t been that way since probably like elementary school. But I’ve just been especially agitated by everything and everyone more recently. I just wish they would understand that the not sleeping at night, the sudden shield I put up against them, and the lack of emotion (besides the sudden angry or upset outbursts) is not because I’m just a bitchy girl, but because I’m handling some emotional stuff that they know about. They just don’t connect the dots. I need a hug :(
Who knew holding hands could trigger you. Bad feelings. Making me sick. I can’t take it. Breathe. Cmon breathe. You’re ok. It’s all ok. Breathe. Live in THIS moment
I’m concerned. I have 3 more weeks of my first year of college. Not gonna lie, I’m excited, but I’m also really worried. It will be the first time I’m home for more than a week since everything happened. I don’t know how I’m going to handle everything. Like I think it’s good I’m going on vacation right away, but I don’t know if I’m going to get better or worse after that. Like usually when I go home, I get really upset, then come back to school really upset too. I’m hoping I will get better after being home for an extended period of time and physically being away from this, but anything can happen. That is one thing I’ve really learned in 2012. I guess we’ll just have to see how things go as the end of the school year approaches.
The room is dark with the exception of the orange light sneaking in from outside and the dim blue glow of the alarm clock. Silent except for the hum of the fan cooling the room and the occasional buzz of the refrigerator.
I lay here. Eyes wide open looking at the blankness of the ceiling and the bare floor to my right. My stomach drops. The emptiness of the room is soon matched by the emptiness of my body. My mind rushes, yet never strays far from unwanted thoughts that never cease to exist. They shoot in all directions yet never make any sense. Nothing about them draws me closer to making any revolation, but simply remain at a consistent chatter that repeats itself and never goes away.
Check the clock… It has been an hour since i last looked.
And another half hour.
And another hour. It keeps going on and on. Yet it’s no longer a surprise, but simply a nightly routine.
In this room of orange light, blue glow, quiet hum, and sudden buzz, there is no indicator of time. It all remains the same and doesn’t change, just like the monotonous thoughts that assault my mind.
