I’m doing a little better this week (so far at least)! My PTSD symptoms are so much calmer, I am quite easily managing any that come my way right now.
Saturday was difficult, but Sunday was so calm, grounding and peaceful (as peaceful as it gets around here with two young children).
I know my sessions with my T are helping, disclosure helps so much. I hate doing it, I wish there were another way, but it works. I was quite ill last week, yet after telling what I did Friday, I feel so much more relaxed.
Sure, as with every new disclosure, tons of issues have been thrown in the air, things changing and feelings shifting, but it was worth it for the relief I feel right now.
My T encouraged me to “park” what I disclosed if I found it all too much this week. It took a few days, but I’ve managed it. For now I have emotionally detached. It makes it easier to talk about, it makes it easier to write about. I can start to look at the issues it has raised, I can begin to explore the feelings it has revealed. I don’t want to remain emotionally detached (as I have with some previous disclosures), because I don’t want to have to do it again. But for now, to get me through to my next therapy session, emotionally detached is what I need.
The first thing I will ask my T when I see him is “do you believe me?”. It is something I find the need to ask after each disclosure. It’s not as urgent as it used to be, now I know him well enough to read his body language and his reactions. But still, that reassurance is a big deal for me. It’s something I crave a lot. I need to know I am believed.
While I have told my T worse things than what I did on Friday, it still sounds so far fetched and unbelievable. His long exhale, his shift forward in body language, was enough for me to know he was with me as I told. I felt believed, understood and I knew I wasn’t alone. I didn’t need to ask him “do you believe me” right then, but since I’ve detached from it and had time to consider what I told, those doubts have crept in.
What I went through, it really does sound unbelievable, especially if you know me and the life I have now. I have been safe for ten years now and even find myself wondering if it really took place. I talked about it some last night and as I heard it out loud (in the way I just don’t when I’m really feeling it), it sounded like a lie- made up or at least exaggerated.
It helps to talk it through, it is the only way I will accept it. I choose what I reveal, I remain in control with what I am saying, I never want to say too much. I worry all the time about over sharing, these things cannot be easy to hear. Mostly, though, I fear that my own thoughts of “that sounds made up” are being thought by those I am sharing with.
I remember it, as if it were yesterday. It is as if the memories have been burned into me and there is a giant scar, running through me. Yet, I don’t believe it half the time. How do you get past that? How do you deal with how unbelievable it all sounds? How do you accept it, when you can barely get your head around it yourself? Will this constant questioning of myself ever end? Will I always be so insecure and afraid?
I just cannot understand why anyone would want to hear these things, I cannot understand why they are willing to share my pain. I wait, to be called out as a liar, or an attention seeker, I fear it everyday. Will that ever go?
If I barely believe my own story, how can I ever expect anyone else to believe me?