I am feeling exhausted today. I get so sick of remembering. Remembering things I don’t want or need to right now. Things that are done, things that are over. And things that I am not ready for yet.

I have a day off work, to spend time with my oldest child, I am hoping somewhere in there, I can find a little time out to relax. With a trigger this weekend and some unexpected things surfacing in my therapy session on Friday, I feel like I need some time out.

I spent much of the weekend trying to work out if we can continue where we are with therapy, without facing those unexpected (and unwanted) things that came up in our session. I think we can, I hope we can. I am busy working on separating and compartmentalising in preparation for Friday.

It’s tough. It’s tiring.


To complicate matters, I had an unexpected trigger on Saturday.  While I wasn’t hit by guilt and trauma, it still hurts. It really, really hurts. I have felt sort of haunted by it all weekend.

I have been dreaming of my friend each night. I wake feeling raw. I find my thoughts turning to her so often right now. Does she remember the way I do? Has she had help? Is she really OK?


I may have processed that day in therapy, but processing does not mean forgetting. I still remember.

I know the truth now- not a twisted, self blaming version, but that doesn’t make it go away. I still remember.

The crying, the screams, the panic and the crushing burden of responsibility. I still remember.


It’s been a long weekend. I am so tired of remembering right now.



Ever struggle to find the words to describe how you feel?

Something big has shifted (which apparently is a major milestone) and now my memories are different. I have new ones, gaps have been filled in and I view them all in a new way.

It is as if the separate boxes of memories have been thrown together into a new bigger box. It is chaos in my head, like they are all clambering for my attention “Look at me, see how different I am” and “look, I am new, process me”. More to accept, more to face.

It’s shit. That is about the only word I can find to describe how I feel. It’s not even accurate, I just don’t think the word I need exists.

I should be sitting in the garden recovering from my therapy, avoiding my laptop, just journalling or relaxing, but I cannot.

I am very aware that in 24 hours I need to be OK, I have plans with University friends who I see so rarely, I don’t want to cancel. I need to be better, but right now I cannot switch off. I am restless and fidgety.

I didn’t want to leave my therapy session today. I guess I need some guidance and reassurance right now. Because this is so massive- massive and scary.





Moaning, complaining- tired.

The more I move forward, the more I feel like me. Yet, each and every time we uncover a memory, I feel I’m back to a struggle within myself again. Wondering who I am? And whether other people see the real me?

As I grounded from a flashback at work today, I found myself wondering (again) if anyone knew? Am I transparent? Can they see my thoughts, that sick, disturbing memory that hit me? Or perhaps they see the fight within me as I battle to regain control? And then another familiar thought struck me… what if those around me right now knew the truth of my past? In particular the current issue at hand? How would they react?

Shock and disbelief, I expect? Because that’s what I feel. I have always known, but I’ve never understood. Now it’s out in front of me, it seems so much bigger somehow.

On Friday, in my session, it was if it were moving within those walls, bouncing from one side to the other, it couldn’t be ignored. Yet, I still couldn’t believe it and almost a week on, it’s still the same. The embarrassment and shame, it really does remain.

I wasn’t embarrassed when I told my T, or when I told again yesterday, but since the doubts creep in, whenever I am alone. Intellectually, I know, this is not my shame, but yet somewhere inside that feeling still exists.

It’s a common theme throughout, one I know I’ll have to face time and time again. I cannot help it, it’s not something I can control. I don’t want to be judged, yet I know I judge myself. I am ashamed of what I told. I’m ashamed that was ever me. I wish I could just let go.

I want to erase what was, scrub it from my mind. I don’t want to keep on facing this. It all seems so.. (and I hate saying this) but unfair. I lived it once, I’ve done it, I don’t want to go there again. I hate him for doing this to me, I hate him for everything.

So, can I have a “stamp my feet, it’s not fair” moment please? One where I don’t have to be strong?

I am so damn tired of it all right now. The pain, the anger, the shame, the embarrassment. I’m sick of needing my T so much, tired of being a burden on those helping me. I want it done, over with, or I want to run away.

I cannot stop the tears right now.. and I know that’s probably alright….(?)



Now that moment is over, I’ll pick myself. I’ll go back to my mothering duties and tomorrow I’ll face my demons again.

A hug would be nice. 😦




There’s good lurking underneath.

*Trigger warning*


I feel so weird this morning, I know there’s some good feelings, hidden underneath all the bad. Last night I met with my Minister. The chat helped a lot, it feels so good to have support and sometimes, I almost believe all the good things he says about me!. Then this morning, I posted something positive as my Facebook status and a (relatively new) friend, who I have just recently admitted I deal with PTSD, sent me a lovely message (plus she told me I better be doing my “I am awesome dance”). That made me feel good.

And though I had very little sleep, last night was sort of amazing. I slept with my baby some, he was so cuddly and sweet, once he was back in his bed, I fell asleep holding hands with my husband, which given my sleep/ bed issues, hasn’t happened before. I’ve slowly been reclaiming my bed and last night feels like another step towards that. Yay!

So, a good, if not restless night, but this morning I woke in pain. Though, it’s been on and off all weekend, I had hoped I’d seen the last of it. I’ve taken painkillers, but so far they aren’t touching it. Thing is, this pain is highly triggering. In terms of pain levels, it’s actually fairly low, more like a dull ache, but it’s distressing to feel it. I so wish I could stay at home, my husband has taken the older child to school, the youngest is playing so nicely next to me.. what I’d give to just stay home with him. I don’t want to go to work and pretend I’m OK and deal with paperwork and clients queries. How can I do that, when I feel as if I’ve just been raped? 😦

The pain feeds the shame, the shame that has been nagging at me the last couple of days. Right now, it’s not just about it telling me I’m dirty and used, I actually feel it. I want to shower again and I want to clean my (already clean) house. I want this feeling to go, I want this pain to go, so I can take the time to enjoy the good feelings I know are hidden underneath all this today.


Healing and stress

Wow, what an amazingly painful but healing afternoon I had today. I talked on Facebook with some old school friends, just reminiscing really. We were all very close for a lot of years, so it was really nice to talk about old times.

Given that I was abused during my teen years, I find it hard to look at photos and hard to talk about those times at all, but today as well as painful, I found it helpful.  It felt good to remember the fun we had, it was good to be reminded of the nice memories that have seemed so lost among the memories of abuse.

Sometimes it feels as if my teen years (and even before that) are just sort of gone, lost, like a dream that I can scarcely remember. I don’t normally like reminders of any of it, because I don’t know what will trigger, so I avoid, avoid avoid. While I quickly hid the photos posted today, the conversation brought me to tears of joy, of relief and of pain. I feel like I’ve reconnected a little with the good times that I still managed to have during those very dark years.

One of the friends I talked to today is the one I’ve referred to in recent posts. I can’t and won’t go into why and what I found helpful in our chat today, but it’s been beneficial, I feel somewhat lighter for it.

It’s strange to feel lighter while also feeling so heavy with stress. I am so incredibly stressed out, I could barely hide it at work today, which isn’t something I normally struggle with. I have been unable to deal with my children at all this evening. The stress is causing dissociation and hyper vigilance and I’m finding myself quite ill with the PTSD. I am hearing noises, I have such brain fog that I am seeing things. I can’t sit still at all (which is part of the hyper vigilance) and my husband is having to help me regulate my breathing at regular periods. It’s horrible. I am hoping this is it reaching its peak. I will be taking action to de stress this evening once my children are in bed. I will also be talking to my employer tomorrow to see if we can reduce work stress too.

This afternoon was positive for sure and I’m holding on tightly to that this evening. I am very much looking forward to feeling up to processing today properly.


Sensing it’s there

waiting for me,

but knowing not what

not where, or when

What will return?

I await with trepidation


I thirst for the answers

and for the truth

locked up tight inside.

My spirit is yearning

for the freedom there.

Tentatively I wait.


I’m weary now,

come now with haste,

reveal to me what I seek.

For now just a dream,

of no new revelations

of the day I will find peace. 


Imprisoned memories


Locked in a padded room

bouncing off the sides

looking for their exit,

desperate to escape


They make their impression

before trampolining away.

And though the mark fades

it always leaves a trace


The return is inevitable

a reality that does not cease

for they are imprisioned here

until our sentence is complete


So repeatedly they hit

ricocheting off the sides

We await their release

with fear and bated breath


for one day it will be over.

With freedom granted

no more will they rebound

and no longer fade away