The fall

The group was at capacity yesterday. Everyone was lovely, but the intensity of emotions was breathtaking. And triggering. Everyone at different stages of recovery. Some angry and shouting. Some sad and sobbing. Some had been let down by their families or by the justice system. Most lived in fear. All struggled to get their lives back. People spoke sentences that could have come from my mouth. In part I wanted to cry in relief, in part I wanted to hide in the depths of my mind and not feel anything. So many topics were covered, childbirth, family, partners, anger, depression. It was both liberating and overwhelming. I felt less alone than I have in years. But to see my heartache and isolation mirrored when I try to avoid it was so confronting.

I left feeling raw, exposed, vulnerable, small, child like. Unable to speak. Incredibly drained.

At home I crawled into bed and slept for a few hours.

I couldn’t tell my husband what had really been talked about. I felt afraid to talk out loud. My head still felt confused, I was so sad. We watched some television then went back to bed.

The night was incredibly cruel. The wind was strong and my nightmares were the worst they’d been in a long time. Violent, graphic. I woke in panic attacks. Terrified. Body memories, disoriented. Over and over. At one point I went to the bathroom to try to find a tool to cut myself with. I haven’t self harmed since we went back to England so over a year ago. I need to feel the cut, see blood. Feel a release. I wanted to cut the pain away. The shame. My husband knows my tendency to cut when I’m struggling with the past so it’s difficult to find sharp things easily. I debated going downstairs to the kitchen to use a knife, but the children’s bedrooms are downstairs and the thought of them waking and catching me was beyond comprehension – that’s not to say I’ve shown such consideration to my family in the past.

The night was torture. If someone had offered me death there and then I would have taken it. I was so tired, but my mind and body were being tortured over and over.

This morning I didn’t want to move. I’ve cried like I haven’t cried for a long time. I struggled to get the kids ready. To hide my pain. The panic has threatened to rise. I feel alone, lost, afraid of the world.

I don’t know what to do.

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12 thoughts on “The fall

  1. Are you sure you are ready for a group? Maybe one to one might work better for you.
    Our children help keep us on a healthy path. Good for you. But I’m sorry for the night you described. Nights can feel so alone and isolating…and endless. Hoping things are better for you.

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    1. Its a good question. I thought the group might be good for me because i feel so alone and isolated. I havent really spoken to anyone thats been through what i’ve been through before. When i read things it makes me feel so much better – so much less alone. I thought the group would be like that. To an extent it is. i went before and found it helpful but it was nowhere near as busy. I guess now I’m back in therapy that will help. The group is only monthly so it shouldnt be too taxing. I guess i will see how next month goes after i have had some more therapy. Thank you xx

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    1. Thursday. Im not sure how much I can tell him because he is new to me, but I guess I bounce around the subject, looking around awkwardly, changing the subject, driving us both bonkers! At least I have an outlet now though.

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  2. Well done for heading to group and being able to sit through all it with all you were feeling.
    Sometimes what other people say can trigger something within you without you even realising, which is why people can sometimes feel worse after counselling before they feel better, which may explain what you are feeling.
    I’m sorry things have been rough since, I hope you are doing a little better and writing on here has helped, I’d encourage you to go back to group, maybe it was just a one off?

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    1. Thank you, writing here always does help relieve some pressure. I had been 2 times prior and whilst upsetting I hadnt reacted to such a degree. There were only about 4 people before though. I really admire these women who can shout, cry and speak so openly. Something I can never imagine doing. I am relatively new to therapy as well, so the whole art of healthy expression is new to me. Thank you so much for your comment xx

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      1. No problem, I understand how group can make you react, I’ve just started going to a group myself and it’s hard to cope with sometimes. Keep going with your blog posts, they are great!

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  3. My first thought was how triggering this group session must have been. For myself, I never realize I’m being triggered until after the fact…sometimes long after the fact. It’s weird, in the moment I know I’m not okay. But I don’t think of it as ptsd or because of what happened.
    I started a group and so want out of it. It’s a grief group and I’m just not thinking I can share what I need to spew out…
    Take care of you.

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    1. Its been a lot more triggering than i realised, creeping up on me more and more as time passes. You are completely right. I have no idea if this is a helpful process or not. I thought i had control of my PTSD, at this point i would say clearly not. Im sorry your group is equally causing you such pain. I have been reading your blogs and see you are in such turmoil so thank you for taking the time to comment here. Knowing i am not alone makes a huge difference x

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  4. Therapy can definitely set up triggers for our hormones. My therapist pretty much advised me to get grounded and practice grounding techniques after therapy that seemed intense. Keep writing! 💜

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  5. it can be overwhelming when you go to a group and listen to others pain..its helpful to not feel alone but it also is like a sledgehammer on your heart. I don’t know what your going through but i know my first time at a support group for my issues was very tough. Then after going after my husband died it was worse. Its picking at the scab of pain… hang in there and just try breathing

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