I’m feeling increasingly more jumpy. Also more emotional and more frustrated. I can’t stop ruminating over the police investigation and how hard it was, not to mention how futile it was. For him, it’s long since forgotten, but for me I’m still having to deal with the trauma. I’m sick of this every year. I have tried to forget it, but my mind always takes the same route, and the memories come flooding back. I feel so powerless.
On another note, I heard from the investigating cop about the one that’s been dismissed and the internal investigation still hasn’t started yet. To be honest, I couldn’t care less about that. The cops are a network, no one is going to do anything within the force. I feel like shaking them and telling them to use their resources to investigate what happened to me. I don’t know if enough rocks were unturned, and I hate myself for not remembering names, although for the important witnesses, I’m not even sure I knew their names at the time. It doesn’t stop me feeling like I could have done more.
And my ex continues to come into the picture. As if I don’t have enough traumatic events to deal with. I suppose he’s living the life of Riley too. I have no faith in karma or the justice system.
This Sunday is the support group and I’ll definitely go to that. I haven’t been for months. I think it’ll be beneficial to be around other people that can understand me. I’ve tried finding some comfort in a couple of websites; aftersilence.org and pandoras aquarium. But then I end up finding the posts triggering.
2 of my children are back at school. The youngest. I miss them terribly, especially my son. But I am able to get more done during the day. My other 2 start on Thursday.
Steve is away a lot so I get to stay at the house and to be honest, it helps. If feels safer here. It always did feel like my sanctuary. When he’s back, I actually dread going back to mine. Although I’ve got it laid out perfectly for me, it’s hard to feel at home. The house is in a suburb on a fairly busy street, and there’s crime down there. Whereas up here at the house, there isn’t crime around and the house is on a private, dead end road, so no through traffic.
I miss my old life. And I can’t get over the sting of loneliness. I’m going through all this trauma alone.
I just want February to hurry up and be over.