Angry, hurt and ashamed.

Trigger warning.


I put aside this time to write a little in my journal to prepare for my therapy session tomorrow. My husband is out buying food for a Thanksgiving meal (we will be having a day late) and my children are asleep. I can’t bring myself to open my journal again though. I wrote a lot in it early this morning and after wrestling with myself, I posted one (“Ashamed”). I just can’t seem to go back in that journal right now.

I am feeling pretty bad, but that seems to be the norm at the moment. I’ve been dissociating a lot today and right now I am just full of anger. I’m angry that I’m so ashamed of myself, I’m angry that “he” made me feel that way. I’m angry that I have to feel any of this stuff, I am angry that it was done to me in the first place. I’m so angry. I really, really hate that I was a victim of that abuse, which I am sure is quite a normal feeling. I hate that people know.. yet it’s a relief at the same time. It gets so tiring hiding it, but the point is, I’m angry that anyone has to know. I’m angry that “he” did it, I am angry that talking about it is the only way through.

Sometimes I feel so vulnerable and exposed. I am so private, maybe because of the abuse, or perhaps it’s just who I am.. and so while I’m glad it’s out in the open, it makes me uncomfortable. I was groomed into keeping quiet out of shame. I believed what I was doing (being made to do) was wrong and dirty and that it needed to remain a secret. I believed no one would love me, or could ever love me if they knew the truth. Those feelings have come with me into adulthood and they remain now.

Each time I tell what he did, I am rewarded with a high of taking control, but I’m also fighting shame and that voice telling me I need to stop. Telling helps, but I am so very ashamed of what “he” did- I cannot help it. I was raped and in love with my rapist and that causes a huge amount of shame. I had to take part in vile and lewd acts, I had to say awful things and pretend it was real for me. I won’t go into detail, it’s not what this blog is about, but it was truly sick. I cannot help the shame.

I do know he groomed me to love him and I know he was at fault. I know it’s not my fault, I know the shame belongs to him. I also fully believe that victims of rape have nothing at all to be ashamed of, yet that shame remains.

This is really hard.




Trigger warning – please be careful.


I know I shouldn’t be ashamed, I know I need to give this back to you- that’s where it belongs, not with me, but with you.

I feel it dragging me down, it will not let me go. Oh how I want you to take this back, I don’t want to carry this.

It’s telling me to be silent and it’s telling me to hide. It wants me to keep our secrets, it wants them kept inside.

I am ashamed of what you did and I am ashamed of what you took and I can barely look in the eyes of those who know that truth.

I fear they see right through me, I fear they know who I really am, I fear they see me as you did- just a dirty little girl.


I know it may sound ridiculous, but I find I hide myself from God; you made me feel so unworthy, as if I would forever be unloved.

I am ashamed I was your victim, I am ashamed I have been raped. The only ones who will really know are you and me and God.

Does that scare you too? Because believe me, it should. Can you stand before God knowing what you have done? I know right now, I could not, not with what we did.

I deny myself that comfort, I do not listen to a word, I am afraid of what He would say, I am afraid of the truth.

And I blame you for that, for so many things. I blame you for all those rapes – making me lose sight of me.


I am ashamed of who I was, I am ashamed it’s still inside, I am ashamed of the truth and I am ashamed of the lie. I am ashamed that people know and I am ashamed of that life.

The life that’s still inside me, the life that was once real, the shame of losing my virginity at only 14.

The shame of the assaults on my body, the scars that will never heal, the shame of being trained and the sexual deviancy.

The shame that you had me, in every single way. The shame that my body remembers and hurts from what you did.

The shame as I feel your touch and I react to what was and the shame that my body does exactly what it should.


I am ashamed of who I was, I am ashamed it’s still inside, I am ashamed of the truth and I am ashamed of the lie. I am ashamed.

Afraid of myself?

I am a little afraid of how I feel right now, I hit depths of despair earlier today that I’ve not had in years, I had thoughts I didn’t want, fleeting, but very real. My head is in a mess, I am bouncing back and forth between symptoms, I can’t seem to think straight, I get half way through a thought and another interrupts. I am scared of myself a little bit and of how independent this feels from me. I know what I want, I know what I have, but there is such a pull back down a road I thought I’d left behind. I know I’m moving forward, I know I have a good life, but all the positives seem so far away. I feel I’m fighting a battle today and I’m afraid that right will lose. I feel like I’m screaming for help, but I don’t even know what for. I have help, I have support, I am safe and loved, I have everything and more than I could have ever hoped for. I don’t know what I want, what I’m hoping to achieve by moaning about how I feel. No one can do this for me, it has to be me. Right now I do not trust myself or my thoughts, there’s something inside telling me I’m a terrible person, that I deserved this, the shame I guess is taking over, the pain seems to be drowning me. I feel out of control and I’ve no clue what to do, except wait it out.

Maybe I just finally crashed today. Over a week of no routine, visitors in my house, having to suppress and push past my symptoms, feeling like I couldn’t be me and feeling I just couldn’t feel in general.. if that makes sense. Then the last few days I’ve been back at work, which has been crazy busy, Monday and Tuesday I came home to guests here, Wednesday, I came home to so much mess- I spent all afternoon cleaning.

I think I’m exhausted, I am stressed out, I need a break. I just don’t know when I’ll get one. I have work everyday, my boys to entertain when I get home, therapy each Friday, with the usual weekend of feeling terrible, then processing. My husband is talking about when he’ll be going camping this summer, which fills me with dread. I don’t see a break happening. I’m afraid that I’m going to crack under this pressure, I already feel like I’m on the edge. Tears keep coming, but no more than a few fall because I am afraid to fall apart. I barely made it to work today, I was late going in and I felt sort of zoned out all day. I was dissociating I guess but didn’t even try to break out of it, I was having intrusive thoughts, but grounding seemed too much effort. I am so drained.  I didn’t get chance, or couldn’t be bothered to eat today, which isn’t a good sign, I am trying to take care of myself, eating, drinking and sleeping really make a difference, I just didn’t care enough to do it today.

Tomorrow I see my T and I’m desperate to talk about the changes brought on by our last session, but I don’t know that I have the energy to go through it. I considered taking my letter with me as it explains a lot, but my printer won’t work. Maybe that’s a good thing, perhaps I need help with the basics again, reminders of what to do. Perhaps a session of his encouragement  and comfort will help rather than continuing with what we’ve been facing. That pisses me off though, I don’t want this to linger, the shame stuff I mean, I still feel those things, even with some changes in the right direction, it’s brought up more things that I need to address with him. I don’t want to put it on hold, but what choice do I have? I cannot continue progressing, I cannot face more stuff while I feel like this. I hope it just goes overnight and things can carry on as planned. Oh how I wish that happens, I cannot stand feeling this way. I could use some prayers right now.