The only thing left is memories (Ape's diary, no peaking)
Tw; domestic, sexual abuse, PTSD, (possible Schizophrenia, DID) social anxiety, family stress.
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Hi buddies. Hugs for you all. This is my diary. No reply please. Love you.
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"When I stand before thee at the end of the day'thou shalt see my scars and know that I had my wounds and also my healings."
—Tagore's 《Stray Birds》
Himani is gone now😭
If we have a chance, to start over fresh.... If only we can escape from our past and our own mind...
I don't get it, why do people act always contradictory to what they want? Why be angry with a little girl who had suffered when what you really is mad about the men who hurted her?
So why is my therapist mad? Is it about me refusing to admit that I'm not guilty or at the men who ...
Ppl just don't seems to get why I freaks out so much.
Lets imagine for a sec, how will they look at me if I relapsed.
Sitwa; what happened to your arm, Honey?
Me; nothing.
Sitwa(using my imagination) ; you are lying, what happened? Did you relapse?
Me; and so what?
Sitwa; you do know that we have to call your parents once you starts being in crsis in therapy..
Me;so what?
Me;not that tgey don't already know I self harm,big deal
Think I am going to go through that kinda of conversation soon, wanna relapse soo bad
Still clean
Its raining, the rain drop sings a melody which seems to sooth and wash the dast and depressed earth back to livelihood.
Its been a while, Himani didn't reply my post ...it is sad in how they keeps walking out of our lives. But I have been through worse, haven't I? I can make it. We are going to make it through the messy stuff we are in rn.
Now a new kind of guilt occupied my heart, to outsiders, I'm an innocent little girl... Who has a high EQ and always in control of her emos and never seems to get angry. But this isn't always true.
3 years before, I put on my first rubber band. Promising myself that for the rest of my life, I will not hurt a single soul. And will stop being violent to my sisters. Yes, I was physically abusive to them. Whenever they cried, Mom would come and slap me, and whenever they fell or got hurt, Mom would ask me to do the same...I relish my agony and pain anger on them, I bite, pinch and threaten them. I was only seven when they were born; when they became my responsibility...
But that's no excuse....
Things only seems to be getting worse...I am pulling off every social thing possible. The onky thing left is family and therapy... Being around my dad and uncle causes me so much fear. And they always insist that I hang out with them in the evenings where they have friends and colleagues around. People are dangerous, screams my brain...
Therapy is ok...I mean Sitwa is mostly kind and patient and speak gently, she does sames to be ...I guess things will be easier if we wasn't talking about senstive stuff...
