mold
local fungi
- Jun 25, 2019
- 123
I've been drinking a lot the past week, everything still kind of sucks, and I'm still upset about failing every attempt I've had at CTB. And today while I was randomly spitting out words to the void I felt like something I said while I was drunk rambling in my journal made things make sense to me I guess? I wonder if anyone else feels the same way (or differently! I like hearing what you guys have to say. It's like the pain of everything makes a lot of us wiser? haha)
Life is bad, and hard, and I am traumatized beyond words. And now I have so much more trauma than I can reasonably tolerate. I only barely just "got over" my SA that happened when I was just 16 years old, but my still flinch at anyone who vaguely resembles my assaulter, my chest gets tight at anything that resembles or reminds me of them, and from recent events, the trauma I feel now feels like that but worse, despite it not being SA. It felt "easier" to get over my assault and years of abuse because so many other people I knew were terrorized by the same person, and we all had each others backs. We could laugh it off in a way. Yeah, it was "easier", but it took over 5 years to get to this current day, this current point in my life, where I still flinch or get scared.
What has happened to me in the past year (4 months? If anyone's curious you can read some of my previous posts on what happened) feels so much worse than the SA? Which feels wrong to say, but it feels like death. My abuser has never made me cry (haha toxic masculinity maybe on my part? lol), they have never made my mornings heavier, made it harder to wake up in the morning, they have never been the reason I wanted to die, if anything they made me want to live, to spite them. I wanted to fight back, show them they didn't put me down.
But right now? I have no way of making this better for myself, nothing to make me feel better, no way of laughing it off, no "other victims" I can connect to. Even if it gets better I don't want to live with this kind of PTSD, which feeds off of all my other mental illnesses (these mental illnesses also feed off of the PTSD.)
I don't think I can realistically come back from this? I know it gets better for some people. My PTSD did get better after, say, 6 years since my SA, but its still not gone. I'm still at a point where psychs look at me and go "you should consider getting more help because where you're at now isn't good." and I consider this being "over" my SA trauma. It's crazy to me I feel worse now than the night I got SA'd. It says a lot, and it's sad.
Even if I live another year, another two or three or four... I won't be in a good place, mentally. I feel worse now, months after what happened, more than the moment I was SA'd as a minor, and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it. My friends tell me to live, that it gets better, but that's just so insane to me. Insane and sad. And the awful cherry on top is the person who helped me get even slightly better is "unsure" of how they feel about me. Cool I guess? I don't want to live this way, with an illness that can't be fixed with modern medicine, unless you consider a lobotomy a valid surgery, lol.
It's very easy for people to say its hard but I shouldn't give up, that I can work through the pain. But I don't think they understand what I've been through or what I feel, though I do think people here might. My life on paper is good, I have friends and family who love me and try to cheer me up. I think if my only trauma was SA I'd be fine, or as fine as I could get. I'm not a teenager anymore. But the SA put the first cut, and everyone else who has bullied, harassed, etc. me has re-opened that cut wider and wider, and now that cut has been torn open to the point my guts spill out of it.
I don't want to live for the idea that it gets better while everyone expects me to put myself back together, put my guts back inside one by one, stitching myself back up, little by little. Even if nothing bad happens to me after today, everything is happy and good, I'll have this big, unhealed wound the size of my body haphazardly stitched back up. I stitch it back up every time something or someone tears it open again, wider than before. Even if my life is "perfect" after this, I'm going to be scared forever, that it will open again. Even if I tell myself my life is perfect, I have everything I want, I'd still be sleeping at 7AM scared for my life. I am going to wake up wondering if it will get torn open again. I think most people don't understand that.
Maybe it's easy for people to discard me, get over me, to say it will get better, that my life won't be shit forever. But it's going to be shit as long as I'm hurting like this. Even if life is fundamentally perfect, I don't think I can last another decade. It took me 6 years to "get over" my abuser (and I still flinch at things), I'm still recovering from the bullies and harassment I got dealt years after, and I haven't even started recovering from what happened to me this year. I can't shoulder it anymore. And I have no one to shoulder it with me. If I'm feeling worse now than I did after my literal, physical SA, a decade isn't even enough to "heal". I don't want to live that way. I'd rather be dead.
People say "I get it", but do they really? Sure, if I hypothetically live to next year, I may "recover", feel a little better, but I still don't want to shoulder it. I can't. I have to man up and handle it myself or I'm expected to, somehow. I honestly don't want to. It's the same thing as "i don't feel like watching tv tonight" or "i don't want to eat salad for dinner tonight" or "i don't want to pick the pieces up and put them back inside and sew myself back up and move along". I simply don't want to. So I'm dying. That's all.
It's not as serious as "life is always and wholly shit forever", I just don't wanna anymore. So yeah, people can "get it" but they don't actually get it. I figure other SA and abuse survivors here might understand this though. I just have to live with this PTSD until I die of natural causes or give up. I still think and dream about things that make me smile or happy, even if its short term, but even in those moments I know and have carried the weight of everything that has happened now and in the past on my shoulders, and it is crushing me. It gets lighter with time, it always does, and I'm not denying that, but it never goes away. For example I've had many surgeries in my life, and sometimes those scars randomly sting or hurt years after, even if they are quite literally, scientifically, factually considered healed. It's the same concept but worse, since a doctor can't just stitch it back up or have me knocked out unconscious. I don't think of my abuser or bullies 24/7, but it still hurts randomly. It makes it hard to breathe, my chest hurts, I tear up, I cry, I fall to the floor and curl up, my heart rate quickens, I get the urge to self harm, and more. I think things that aren't true, ruminate on the things that are true. Even when I say I'm over my abuser, which I still think I am, I still get anxious when I see anything that makes me think of them. It's been over 6 years since my assault, 5 years since I cut them out my life, and the fact that I feel worse now writing this than the day it happened makes me know and understand that healing from now will take longer than I can imagine or handle. If I haven't fully healed from my assault 6 years in, will this take a decade? 15 years? 20?
I don't know anything, and that scares me. I don't want this weight on my shoulders every morning. I don't want to slowly pick up the pieces and stitch myself back together anymore. When I say things will be shit forever, I don't always mean every day will be bad, that someone will come and hurt me again. Let me put it this way; after I cut off my abuser, my life got much better, especially on paper. But sometimes my own home felt unsafe. Whenever I showered I thought of the evil words they said to me about my shower and me. I still have the clothing they assaulted me in, and wonder if the clothing was the reason it happened. But despite that, you could say my life was "good". I would too. But I still have to carry little (or big?) things like that. Sure, my life got better after I sued the people who harassed me or cut off my "friends" who bullied me, but constantly, daily, I carry the weight and pain of the words and actions they did and said. I go to bed scared every day, but unable to cry because of the medication I take. And right now I am feeling more undone and traumatized in a way I have never before in my life felt. I don't want to carry that too, even if my life does get better. Does this make sense??
I have no issues with living or dying for however long or when, but I have to carry all of this regardless. It's suffocating. So maybe it does get better, sure, but I'm going to be constantly suffocating. And frankly, I don't want to live that way. It's not something physical or tangible like taking out the garbage because its starting to smell bad, or going to the doctors and getting surgery, or getting treated for an injury to heal, or opening up my pc and replacing a part that doesn't work anymore. This will continue to suffocate me, even if it gets "easier" or "better" or no one ever hurts me again. I'm still suffocating. And I'm just expected to live because "that's life", right? I don't like that. And I don't want to deal with it because "that's just how life is".
I'd rather kill myself and risk losing everything by dying than suffocating in my 30s, 40s, etc. Even if it gets manageable I'd rather not have it at all. Sometimes at night or in the mornings when I can't sleep I think of when I was "happy" then choke because I remember everything that came after. And I just have to live with that. Sometimes I think maybe it will work out maybe I'll live and I'll get married and I'll graduate and get a job and have decent income and do everything I love and travel the world then I imagine myself lying in bed next to them despite all that, wondering if I'm enough, that they'll leave me one day. Other times I imagine a world where the one I love loves somebody else, and I it in my apartment alone with no family, crying over how I ruined my life. I imagine so many different futures and in every single one I'm carrying the weight of PTSD I can hardly shoulder. I imagine futures where I'm dead, futures where I live
and in every single one I can't say there's a happy ending.
Even if I get everything I want, get married to someone I love, I ask myself, is this really a true happy ending? If I fall asleep scared and afraid every night? Hurting every night from past wounds? Even if it gets slightly better with time, even if they hypothetically were there with me every night, comforting me, saying they love me, that we'll be together forever while I cry and sob, is that a life I want to live? I imagine futures where I'm filthy rich, dirt poor, everything in between and in none do I see a happy ending. Futures where I become famous, have lots of friends, none at all, a lover, no one at all, I see no ease or content or true happiness like other people, in any of them. Even if I see myself laughing and smiling in any of these possible futures, I also see the weight of everything suffocating me too, as it has always, if not worse.
I don't want to live the rest of my life like this. I think dying is better. I'm sparing myself all of this, future suffocating, future drowning in chronic loneliness and sorrow. I still look at the jewelry I had gotten to propose with, and just stare, envisioning a "nice" future, but in it there is still doubt and fear from wounds that will never heal. It sucks.
I'm drunk, tired, and wrote more than I'd write for anything I had written for university, haha. If you read this far, thank you. If you respond or have any thoughts, thank you extra. I love you all. I hope you're all well.
-mold
Life is bad, and hard, and I am traumatized beyond words. And now I have so much more trauma than I can reasonably tolerate. I only barely just "got over" my SA that happened when I was just 16 years old, but my still flinch at anyone who vaguely resembles my assaulter, my chest gets tight at anything that resembles or reminds me of them, and from recent events, the trauma I feel now feels like that but worse, despite it not being SA. It felt "easier" to get over my assault and years of abuse because so many other people I knew were terrorized by the same person, and we all had each others backs. We could laugh it off in a way. Yeah, it was "easier", but it took over 5 years to get to this current day, this current point in my life, where I still flinch or get scared.
What has happened to me in the past year (4 months? If anyone's curious you can read some of my previous posts on what happened) feels so much worse than the SA? Which feels wrong to say, but it feels like death. My abuser has never made me cry (haha toxic masculinity maybe on my part? lol), they have never made my mornings heavier, made it harder to wake up in the morning, they have never been the reason I wanted to die, if anything they made me want to live, to spite them. I wanted to fight back, show them they didn't put me down.
But right now? I have no way of making this better for myself, nothing to make me feel better, no way of laughing it off, no "other victims" I can connect to. Even if it gets better I don't want to live with this kind of PTSD, which feeds off of all my other mental illnesses (these mental illnesses also feed off of the PTSD.)
I don't think I can realistically come back from this? I know it gets better for some people. My PTSD did get better after, say, 6 years since my SA, but its still not gone. I'm still at a point where psychs look at me and go "you should consider getting more help because where you're at now isn't good." and I consider this being "over" my SA trauma. It's crazy to me I feel worse now than the night I got SA'd. It says a lot, and it's sad.
Even if I live another year, another two or three or four... I won't be in a good place, mentally. I feel worse now, months after what happened, more than the moment I was SA'd as a minor, and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it. My friends tell me to live, that it gets better, but that's just so insane to me. Insane and sad. And the awful cherry on top is the person who helped me get even slightly better is "unsure" of how they feel about me. Cool I guess? I don't want to live this way, with an illness that can't be fixed with modern medicine, unless you consider a lobotomy a valid surgery, lol.
It's very easy for people to say its hard but I shouldn't give up, that I can work through the pain. But I don't think they understand what I've been through or what I feel, though I do think people here might. My life on paper is good, I have friends and family who love me and try to cheer me up. I think if my only trauma was SA I'd be fine, or as fine as I could get. I'm not a teenager anymore. But the SA put the first cut, and everyone else who has bullied, harassed, etc. me has re-opened that cut wider and wider, and now that cut has been torn open to the point my guts spill out of it.
I don't want to live for the idea that it gets better while everyone expects me to put myself back together, put my guts back inside one by one, stitching myself back up, little by little. Even if nothing bad happens to me after today, everything is happy and good, I'll have this big, unhealed wound the size of my body haphazardly stitched back up. I stitch it back up every time something or someone tears it open again, wider than before. Even if my life is "perfect" after this, I'm going to be scared forever, that it will open again. Even if I tell myself my life is perfect, I have everything I want, I'd still be sleeping at 7AM scared for my life. I am going to wake up wondering if it will get torn open again. I think most people don't understand that.
Maybe it's easy for people to discard me, get over me, to say it will get better, that my life won't be shit forever. But it's going to be shit as long as I'm hurting like this. Even if life is fundamentally perfect, I don't think I can last another decade. It took me 6 years to "get over" my abuser (and I still flinch at things), I'm still recovering from the bullies and harassment I got dealt years after, and I haven't even started recovering from what happened to me this year. I can't shoulder it anymore. And I have no one to shoulder it with me. If I'm feeling worse now than I did after my literal, physical SA, a decade isn't even enough to "heal". I don't want to live that way. I'd rather be dead.
People say "I get it", but do they really? Sure, if I hypothetically live to next year, I may "recover", feel a little better, but I still don't want to shoulder it. I can't. I have to man up and handle it myself or I'm expected to, somehow. I honestly don't want to. It's the same thing as "i don't feel like watching tv tonight" or "i don't want to eat salad for dinner tonight" or "i don't want to pick the pieces up and put them back inside and sew myself back up and move along". I simply don't want to. So I'm dying. That's all.
It's not as serious as "life is always and wholly shit forever", I just don't wanna anymore. So yeah, people can "get it" but they don't actually get it. I figure other SA and abuse survivors here might understand this though. I just have to live with this PTSD until I die of natural causes or give up. I still think and dream about things that make me smile or happy, even if its short term, but even in those moments I know and have carried the weight of everything that has happened now and in the past on my shoulders, and it is crushing me. It gets lighter with time, it always does, and I'm not denying that, but it never goes away. For example I've had many surgeries in my life, and sometimes those scars randomly sting or hurt years after, even if they are quite literally, scientifically, factually considered healed. It's the same concept but worse, since a doctor can't just stitch it back up or have me knocked out unconscious. I don't think of my abuser or bullies 24/7, but it still hurts randomly. It makes it hard to breathe, my chest hurts, I tear up, I cry, I fall to the floor and curl up, my heart rate quickens, I get the urge to self harm, and more. I think things that aren't true, ruminate on the things that are true. Even when I say I'm over my abuser, which I still think I am, I still get anxious when I see anything that makes me think of them. It's been over 6 years since my assault, 5 years since I cut them out my life, and the fact that I feel worse now writing this than the day it happened makes me know and understand that healing from now will take longer than I can imagine or handle. If I haven't fully healed from my assault 6 years in, will this take a decade? 15 years? 20?
I don't know anything, and that scares me. I don't want this weight on my shoulders every morning. I don't want to slowly pick up the pieces and stitch myself back together anymore. When I say things will be shit forever, I don't always mean every day will be bad, that someone will come and hurt me again. Let me put it this way; after I cut off my abuser, my life got much better, especially on paper. But sometimes my own home felt unsafe. Whenever I showered I thought of the evil words they said to me about my shower and me. I still have the clothing they assaulted me in, and wonder if the clothing was the reason it happened. But despite that, you could say my life was "good". I would too. But I still have to carry little (or big?) things like that. Sure, my life got better after I sued the people who harassed me or cut off my "friends" who bullied me, but constantly, daily, I carry the weight and pain of the words and actions they did and said. I go to bed scared every day, but unable to cry because of the medication I take. And right now I am feeling more undone and traumatized in a way I have never before in my life felt. I don't want to carry that too, even if my life does get better. Does this make sense??
I have no issues with living or dying for however long or when, but I have to carry all of this regardless. It's suffocating. So maybe it does get better, sure, but I'm going to be constantly suffocating. And frankly, I don't want to live that way. It's not something physical or tangible like taking out the garbage because its starting to smell bad, or going to the doctors and getting surgery, or getting treated for an injury to heal, or opening up my pc and replacing a part that doesn't work anymore. This will continue to suffocate me, even if it gets "easier" or "better" or no one ever hurts me again. I'm still suffocating. And I'm just expected to live because "that's life", right? I don't like that. And I don't want to deal with it because "that's just how life is".
I'd rather kill myself and risk losing everything by dying than suffocating in my 30s, 40s, etc. Even if it gets manageable I'd rather not have it at all. Sometimes at night or in the mornings when I can't sleep I think of when I was "happy" then choke because I remember everything that came after. And I just have to live with that. Sometimes I think maybe it will work out maybe I'll live and I'll get married and I'll graduate and get a job and have decent income and do everything I love and travel the world then I imagine myself lying in bed next to them despite all that, wondering if I'm enough, that they'll leave me one day. Other times I imagine a world where the one I love loves somebody else, and I it in my apartment alone with no family, crying over how I ruined my life. I imagine so many different futures and in every single one I'm carrying the weight of PTSD I can hardly shoulder. I imagine futures where I'm dead, futures where I live
and in every single one I can't say there's a happy ending.
Even if I get everything I want, get married to someone I love, I ask myself, is this really a true happy ending? If I fall asleep scared and afraid every night? Hurting every night from past wounds? Even if it gets slightly better with time, even if they hypothetically were there with me every night, comforting me, saying they love me, that we'll be together forever while I cry and sob, is that a life I want to live? I imagine futures where I'm filthy rich, dirt poor, everything in between and in none do I see a happy ending. Futures where I become famous, have lots of friends, none at all, a lover, no one at all, I see no ease or content or true happiness like other people, in any of them. Even if I see myself laughing and smiling in any of these possible futures, I also see the weight of everything suffocating me too, as it has always, if not worse.
I don't want to live the rest of my life like this. I think dying is better. I'm sparing myself all of this, future suffocating, future drowning in chronic loneliness and sorrow. I still look at the jewelry I had gotten to propose with, and just stare, envisioning a "nice" future, but in it there is still doubt and fear from wounds that will never heal. It sucks.
I'm drunk, tired, and wrote more than I'd write for anything I had written for university, haha. If you read this far, thank you. If you respond or have any thoughts, thank you extra. I love you all. I hope you're all well.
-mold
