I can say one positive thing - I have not just folded in on myself this time. Earlier tonight, when I was feeling completely bewildered, I reached out and it made a difference. Just the act of reaching out to someone I love helped. I didn't want to talk about how I was feeling or discuss my past. I didn't want sympathy. I've realised that all I actually wanted was human contact. I hate it when people feel sorry for me, almost as much as I hate it when people refuse to acknowledge the effects of Depression. And I intentionally capitalise the word 'Depression' because it is at the forefront of my life right now. And I reiterate - I DO NOT WANT SYMPATHY! I have no problem with talking about what happened and whilst it is helpful to me, it is also in a bid to draw out other victims who may not yet have acknowledged what happened to them.
What he did to me has taken so much away from me that I can never get back. It has made me a different person to the one I would have been had he not done what he did. And I am angry about that. It really, really pisses me off. And if I can at least reach one other victim and help them to speak up and get help, then I can hold that close to myself as something good that has come out of it all.
The anger and pain is eating away at me, slowly but surely, but I am strong and I will keep fighting it. It helps that I have some amazing friends around me and three wonderful sons. My sons are a large part of why I keep fighting actually. There are so many times when I just do not want to go on anymore and the thoughts are all-consuming. What stops me is the thought that maybe it would have a negative effect on my boys. Yes, yes, I know that people tell me that I am worth something - I've been told that ad infinitum, but I don't think I truly believe it. I have been told that we all have those two voices in our heads - the one that tells us the positive and the other that laughs and says 'do you really believe that?' But the possibility that my boys would be hurt if I left them stays my hand.
The crazy part is that tonight, when I really needed to just sit with someone and chat, or watch TV - just to physically have someone in the same room as me, I was too afraid to get in my car and drive to a friend - what if the urge became too powerful?
And that brings me back to HIM!! Does he have any idea what he has done? Does he care? Has he any concept of what I have to live with? Does he ever feel guilty? Why can he not just say sorry?
But then even if he did say he was sorry, would that ever be enough? I just don't know!
But I hate living like this and I just want it all to stop. I want to be better. I won't say normal, because there are those that flippantly say 'define normal'. I want to be the way I perceive the other people around me to be. To go about my life without these horrible thoughts banging away in my head. I am so hurt and angry and I am sick of it now. It's just not fair.
Please don't feel sorry for me - it doesn't help me. I'm sorry if this post sounds really childish. This is just how I feel right now. And I need to get it out.
I don't know if anyone will read this post, as I am not going to share it like I usually do. I would kind of like my friends and family to see it, because I don't want to go through this alone. But it then comes back to the fear of them either feeling sorry for me and sympathising, the fear that they will think I am pathetic or the fear that they will not believe me.
