I made the rare and terrifying decision to share my blog on Facebook yesterday.
I’m not sure what prompted that decision, it wasn’t a long considered thought process. Perhaps if it had have been I wouldn’t have done it. I think perhaps a part of me knew I was reaching my end and it was a cry for help. I think the facade of carrying on and acting ‘relatively’ normal or hinting that there were some troubled waters just wasn’t enough.
To take the hit from the CPS, to take that exposure, the violation, the loss of control – I had to regain something. I wanted to go to people that had already expressed their care and concern for me and say look, look what’s happening here. I’m lost. I’ve been broken down systemically. By a fellow human and now by a system that’s meant to protect us. I want to expose my raw soul, cry out my lived terror, my frustration, the ongoing battle and then my war cry. To MY people.
I wanted to say, this IS me, PLEASE KNOW ME, please still accept me, PLEASE WALK WITH ME.
The things I’ve been trained not to admit. A sign of weakness.
But I’m missing flights when I’m sat at the fucking gate, I’m driving the wrong way without realising, I barely sleep, I have poor concentration, I think about death as a peaceful rest.
There are a myriad of other things too, here’s a few that whilst aren’t dramatic are an integral part of my daily routine
- I can’t shut the bathroom door
- I’m scared of the dark
- I have panic attacks at least twice a week
- I battle the old urges to self harm almost daily
- I have obsessive daily routines that I must complete before leaving the house
- I can disassociate and lose hours, and pieces of conversation
- Sometimes I think I’m being followed
- I’m always scanning my environment for a threat ALWAYS, I can never relax
- I can’t always be touched – not even by the kids
- I have periods of feeling so dirty I run painfully hot showers and wash with cleaning products
Most of the time I can act normal. I can smile, I pretend I’m fine. Most of my pain is hidden. I could have been up all night but you wouldn’t know. Although recently more people on commenting on tiredness. More people are commenting on the spaced out look. In essence I suppose it’s getting harder to hide.
It’s ugly. I’m ugly. The bitter horrible rejection of society that no one really wants to see or acknowledge.
Well, I’ve put myself out there now.
I’ve heard a few times from my lawyer overnight. My husband is away. I can’t really discuss it with anyone. He’s explained all the legalise with me. It’s detailed. It’s beyond my comprehension. And I have the house to look after and four kids to look after.
I think the general gist is as already stated, the case can go on or be dropped. Irrespective of progress so far. Which is just fucking great. The lawyer said more things. I think he’s just jazzing it up. Maybe trying to stop me giving him a shit storm – he knows me so well.
Did I mention how fucking tired I was?