Content – I’m very angry. Extensive conversation about sexually assault as an adult, no details. Pandemic isolation.
Dr D and I talked about just how unsafe I was with a person I should have been able to trust. Since the assault, I don’t trust men at all and I’m afraid to turn my back to the room in my own home. I’m ashamed of my body. I feel vulnerable and like a sitting duck. Who knew my chances of assault would rise because I’m in a wheelchair!? I thought I’d blend in, be overlooked if not ignored. That is not the case at all.
I told Dr D that I responded to the assault quite differently than expected. I thought after surviving my mother and ex-husband that I’d fight to the death. Instead I responded like a little girl. Am I ever going to be more than that scared little girl? I show the world the face of a lion but I am just a broken little girl holding a mask.
I’m not angry with myself for how the assault was handled bc no one knows truly what they will do until they are in that situation. I just thought my response would be different because I thought I was different now, stronger now, able to speak and demand to be heard. Am I?
I’m just taller and heavy is all. I can still be physically moved without my consent. No joke, I thought being fat meant no one could physically pick me up or move me without my concent, but that is not the case at all. I’m shocked by how easy it was to control me. I’m shocked at how quickly I was moved and pulled.
I feel so unsafe, so exposed. A long time ago I read an article about a survivor who described the humiliation and level of exposure saying it was like showering naked in front of an arena full of people. I’ve always pictured a nasty public shower stall with metal features, in a cold, stone arena.
I’ve healed physically from the harm he caused but I feel like I was left fractured. Despite all my other life experiences I didn’t feel bitter, until now.
Dr D and I discussed sexual abuse as a child. We went over a few details. When I was finished telling him the details he said, stuff like that is why you have DID. I wasn’t expecting that response but it was validating.
This and that
- One step I’ve taken is that I’ve finished working with Hippie Therapist. I don’t go to his Wednesday group anymore either.
- I’m not certain if I need a supplementary female therapist or not but it feels like it.
- I feel like the Wellbutrin has made significant changes in my depth of depression.
- I still run from myself by making sure there’s some kind of noise in the house at all times, especially when I sleep.
- I find joy in working with the plants. Yesterday I successfully put holes in two ceramic pots. When I get a masonry bit and goggles I’ll start putting drainage holes in the Oui yogurt glasses.
- I enjoy painting small pieces in my gratitude journal.
- It’s been so long since I’ve been able to purchase a gift for anyone but I’ve got a small gift to mail out to a wonderful person who is also homebound for the most part. Next pay I hope to get a small gift for a friend that takes care of me.
I’ve had a lot of in person social contact. It almost feels like my old life when I had to let someone on the phone go bc friends were at the door followed by another call. I loved how much my friends were here before the pandemic.
What a relief to laugh and talk in person again. It’s the relief I needed. No medication could give me the kind of sigh of relief that my friends give. I saw them on Zoom bc it wasn’t safe to see them in person. I understand it but my goodness two and a half years in this apartment, and in crisis was a battle I wasn’t prepared for.
Being isolated like I was, in such a tiny one room home, gave me a glimpse of how solitary confinement in prison might feel. It’ll literally drive you mad. I was so painfully lonely that I would order from Amazon just to see someone.
No hugs for 2.5 years. That. was. hard. I pray we never need to go under lock down again. I understand why it was necessary but I never want to experience that again. We are not in the same spot with the pandemic but we aren’t far enough away from it for the emotional pandemic wounds to be resolved. That’ll take time because my sense of safety and security were largely upset.