A Journey from Victim to Survivor…to Living Freely

Back into the Coccoon….

on April 15, 2013

But not for long…or maybe….my mind is muddled and confused…and, in realizing that the smoke smell I have been tearing through the house trying to find (including smelling my 5 year old’s clothing) isn’t a ‘here and now’ smell, but a cigarette smell from my dad….from 30 years ago….it made me understand that the in thinking “It feels like all the flashbacks are tied in some big bunch….it’s confusing, it doesn’t make sense'”…is actually true.  My limbic system (thank you, Jason for giving me words to make sense of this as “I am losing my fucking mind” doesn’t sound so pretty) is overreacting and, because trauma hides among trauma, all of it is mixed together….that is how my ex and the rapist and the bruising and grabbing and sexual touch from my dad and the smell of cigarettes….that’s how the brain mixes them together.  And, it hurts like hell.  I went back to cutting and turned in my items last week….but I try to scratch my way out of the skin that holds this body that doesn’t feel like my own.  My arms are bruised….and my body…as, in mixing the meds I had in the house to try to sleep, didn’t go well…it only caused my balance to be off….and brought me two trips to the hospital….one which had me on suicide watch.  I don’t want to kill myself.  I want to live this life.  I want that more than anything.  I want to hold my children and give them butterfly kisses, I want to feel the warm breeze and sunshine….I want to sing at the top of my lungs…I want to get my ‘self’ back into my body…because right now I am not…I’m dissociating and hurting myself….and I don’t want to be.


So, it’s back into the sleeping bag….and remembering that self-care equals comfort….and that I need to treat myself as I would a friend–with compassion and support and love.  This one year anniversary of the rape falls along with two weeks prior to having surgery to tie my tubes and two and a half weeks before my final dissolution hearing….I dealt with all that really well last year.  Being malnourished makes that possible.  Being malnourished was killing me.  And I don’t want that life.  I will take the emotion and let it wash over me in waves, cleansing me…I will take big, deep breaths when the waves crash and wait for the next one.  I may not be the 100% I expected I’d be….but I am very much better then I  was a year ago.  And, I am not pretending I am ‘okay’…I’m not right now…I am sad and teary…and that is okay….I have wonderful people supporting me each and every step of the way.




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