Haze

It’s been two weeks since I have last blogged. I want to avoid certain topics. I can feel myself start to zone out. It is like a haze over a pond early in the sunrise. Gradual, silent and lingering. I just want to disappear. I have not been able to go to counseling for 3 weeks now. Not because of my choice but because she has been unavailable or sick.

Of course realistically I do not blame her, but in the hazey fog- it’s all her fault and I want to quit. Why do I depend so much on other people to make me feel better when they just let me down? The past couple weeks have been huge triggers, an episode of self harm, brutal nightmares, panic and anxiety attacks so bad I have to leave certain buildings, I am not only thinking about a world without me but how to commit suicide.

My life honestly in “real eyes” is not that bad at all. I actually have it fairly easy right now but on the inside I am screaming. My eyes lust for my own blood, my brain thinks any man will hurt me, my body shakes and cringes because I feel like I am about to pounced upon. My hands scratch and pull at my own disgusting fat body. I cry hot tears, my chest gets these sharp knife like stabbing pains ever so often that bring me to my knees and then I go numb.

I enter in the haze. It is not a daydream, it is not a sleep, it is not anything. It just is numb. I need her help and for 3 weeks I have been stuck in this haze longing to get out.

 

fog 2

No Noise

I have been trying to catch you all up on the emotions and what I went through as a child so you understand where I am coming from and get the back story. There are obviously some topics I want to talk about but I just cannot bring myself to fully explain my sexual abuse as a child, my rape as a teenager, my physical abuse that was done to me through running, the bullying I faced at two different schools and some other things.

I don’t know why, even with a concealed identity I feel like I am really just opening myself up and overexposing myself. I have talked about it before, even publicly for a school class project but it was more so like word vomit. I wasn’t experiencing or had dealt with what I was saying. It felt like I was just saying facts about me. “Hi, I am 25 years old, I like the color pink, I was raped and I like movies.”

I have no idea why I would casually mention it. I can now understand why people were shocked, boys fled but to me I thought I was just being upfront and honest. Currently I do not mention it so openly because I am scared of scaring people away. I have had somethings happen to me that aren’t to be taken with just a “spoonful of sugar”.

I found Jesus in the mix of all of this which I will also write about, hopefully soon. It feels like I have so many stories to tell- it’s a bit overwhelming. This morning’s blog will be a little more exposed and personal. I had a rough night last night. I suffer from insomnia and have been for awhile. I forced myself to sleep last night and woke up in the hottest sweat yet. I can’t remember my dream- I am normally very good at remembering my dreams. But I can only remember fragments and it was yet another variation of my childhood sexual abuse.

I have nightmares sometimes so vivid and real- it puts me in a serious funk for a couple days and creates a fear of sleeping. When I think back on my sexual abuse and rape there is no noise- it’s quiet, numb and frozen, But in my dreams it’s loud, vicious, humiliating, painful and repeating- which that didn’t happen in my real life incidents.

So why dream that way? My dreams are more traumatic then the actual events I feel like. Maybe that is my subconscious letting myself feel the emotions I was too frozen to feel? I have no idea if that is true or not but it is downright frightening either way.

Thank goodness I didn’t have one of those dreams last night but I still had something. I just can’t remember all of it. And in that dream- it was quiet, not like the loudness of the others. What really shook me and took me back was what happened before I went to sleep.

I have had flashbacks of the rape before. It was right after it happened and they were horrible. Since then not too many flashbacks has happened. But last night it did. And not to give too much detail but it was when I was with my husband. It was beyond what words can explain. There was nothing similar in the situation so it wasn’t a trigger. My best guess is this- I was raped only about 2 weeks after I had my first time with a guy I was dating.  So the rape was my 2nd experience. From then on my sexual experiences have always been about power, lust, and anger. I have never “made love”.

I have been desperately trying with the man that I married, but there is a wall that just can’t be broken down. I just can’t be vulnerable. I am trying my hardest and last night I was trying to remain “there” with him but I could feel myself slipping away.

The romantic candlelight flashed into the cold dark moonlight. The bed flashed to the restraint he forced on me and I could see his hands unzip his jeans. The loving tender eyes of my husband flashed to the hungry eyes of my rapist. And the closer my husband got to me the more it kept flashing back and forth- husband, rapist, husband, rapist, husband, rapist. Until finally- I couldn’t take anymore. I broke down in a hard sob and a panic. That is the first time that has ever happened.

I can’t explain it. Sitting here in my bed, safe and sound, I feel so numb and indifferent. I want to try and sleep again. I want to sleep a peaceful sleep. My words have run out.What if that happens again? How can I overcome this? It’s starting to not just happen in my dreams but now my waking reality. I wish I could catch my breath.