So I guess I'm doing this? (Diary thing)
(Blanket TW for nonconsensual sexual stuff)
I don't want to talk about this. Because if I write about it, if I speak it into existence, I have to acknowledge that it happened. Because for a long time, I've been hiding behind denial - just shoving it down, "forgetting" it ever happened. But the thing is, that it happened - and hard as I try, I can't forget.
I don't know what to say. There's so much I could say - so much I don't want to. I still haven't told anyone. The last time it happened was over 6 years ago and I've never told the story face-to-face. I've typed it so many times it feels like rote - less like something that actually happened to me, and more like a combination of words typed over and over. I could talk about how I still feel invalid, because he was also a child - 2 school grades older. I could talk about how His grandfather is my nan's partner which makes it that much harder to forget. I could talk about all the many ways he still affects me - like dreams so frequent they aren't even nightmares, always containing some reference to SA. I could talk about how I told my story one too many times to the wrong people - and even though nothing has come of it in over a year - I feel constantly on edge, waiting for the day i come home to cops on the door, or my mum gets the call, telling her what happened - because I happened to tell my story on a site with mandatory reporters. Even though I am 9 months from 18, from aging out of confidentiality breaks. I could talk about how I'm scared to tell my story anymore, because what is stopping that from happening again? But I know that I need to talk about it; It's not going away until I deal with it. So, I guess I'm soing this.
(TIme to press post and run away so i can't rethink this)
@Itgetsbetter122 Talking about it is difficult. Know your strength in reaching out, and we will be here for you as you do <3
I was anxious today. THat's not necessarily anything new - I'm a naturally anxious person. But today, I was anxious because I kept thinking about the thing. I was looking at the thingy that 7cups has about like trauma and stuff and like stuck points and writing the whole thing down. So I guess it makes sense. I didn't even finish the writing exercise. What happened, happened multiple times over the course of years so I have a lot of stories to write, a lot of which are only fragments. And I already have this document where I just write every memory I can think of, related to the thing or not, and when I read back through that, there were accounts of things I forgot even happened. I will never know how many times it happened, or exactly what both of us did or said. I feel like I would feel a lot more closure, and actually be able to move on, if I could remember it all clearly, watch it like a movie. A lot of my doubt is from like "Did I start it?" "Did I even tell him to stop?" "What if I'm remembering it wrong and he never actually did anything bad?" - there's also just like, what do I even call this, is this even valid since he was a kid too?
I did kind of like the stuck points thing. It kind of helped me understand why I'm still messed up over it, because I'm still holding onto like feelings and beliefs and stuff from it. I guess I don't like doing it because it's like for trauma and PTSD, and I still kinda feel like what happened wasn't really like that bad, so I'm like taking resources which are for real trauma survivors.
A random thought I just had - I've written before (on my tablet's notes) about how this whole thing sometimes doesn't really feel real, it's kind of just this thing I write about a lot. I was thinking maybe that's because I only ever write about it - like it sort of only exists online? Like, it would be real if I verbally talk about it, but I haven't? Like, I spoke to my school support person about it ( I wasn't planning on actually talking about it, just mentioning it as like there's this thing that is making me anxious but I'm not gonna go into, but she convinced me to talk about it) and it was really hard - like I physically couldn't say the words (ALso not a new feeling - I freeze when I'm anxious) which is kinda weird, since I can type semi-freely about it - I would not be able to say out loud the things I've typed here. ANd part of it is just my general anxiousness like I'm generally bad at talking, but I think a part of it is like the feelings that are still attached to it. (SIde note - even typing something as generic as "The feelings still attached to it", not even naming it, is making me anxious) Like - during the convo I had with my school support person, I was kinda jumping around the subject and she said "Did someone touch you izzy?" and god even writing that, months after it happened, I still have the urge to hide my face at that phrase. So guess it makes sense that I can't just move on, since I'm still emotionally tied to the whole thing.
(wonder when I'll actually call it more than "This thing" or say what actually happened? We'll find out I guess)
I've said before that, for the most part, I've felt kind of disconnected from the whole thing offline. While probably not healthy, at least that meant i was able to go about my daily life, not thinking about it all the time. But since i told my story on that site with mandatory reporters, I've felt more of a direct threat than i have in a long time.
And its worse because Im pretty sure I really am alone in this one. It's not as simple as like oh im anxious, which is something that is very relatable. Its this awful, specific situation where the only way to stop it is for the thing im terrified of to happen. I feel like im walking around with a target on my back, like any moment someone could walk up to me and be like " i know"
It started much more rationally. After i messed up and vented and most likely got reported, i was scared to go home because i was terrified to come home to cops at the door. Then it evolved. Whenever the phoe rings, whenever a stranger comes to the door, whenever mum texts me " can u come here" or wants to talk, im terrified that its about that. My thoughts that maybe people can read my mind, especially at nans hoise, have come back. After i told my school support person, its increased to ridiculous levels. Whenever the phone rings at school, i get anxious because it could be her, calling me up to tell me she had to break confidentiality, or the cops came to the school for whatever reason, or that ill go up and the cops will be in with her. Its gotten so bad that whenever a teacher walks near me, my first thought is that they somehow found out and are gonne be like we know. I know that, for the most part, this is irrational, but its just where my mind inevitably goes.
I feel like im walking around with a target on my back, like at any moment everything could be changed and its all out of my control. Im so close to being 18, to aging out of confidentiality to my parents. I just want to deal with it free of the whole emotional reveal awfulness. I feel more at threat than i ever did before they reported me.
So, i was looking through my notes on my tablet, looking at stuff I've written about the thing, and i found this little poem thing i wrote. I remember wanting to write about it, without explicitly writing about it. It's about trying to forget things ever happened, but being unable to, then for just a second, acknowledging its existence, and being constantly anxious as a result, constantly thinking about it.
Its a crazy ex
That wont leave you alone.
Every once in a while,
They light up your phone.
Though you try to ignore,
To block and delete,
They'll still manage to
Be right under your feet.
You want to forget,
To forgive and move on,
But this one crazy ex,
Still wants you to mourn.
So you give in, say hi
What harm can be done?
A lot more than you'd think,
But they've already won.
They make you go back,
To relive the past,
You feel all those feelings
You'd hoped wouldn't last.
Its too late.
You've been swept away.
You're stuck in the past,
Lost to today.
So yeah - kind of different to my usual lengthy rant crap but i felt like sharing this, because i like that it talks about ir without talking about it i guess.
So, I basically told a friend about it today. It wasn't anything particularly serious - just each of us messing around. In fact, it was her more casual attitude to mentioning her own experiences that i felt somewhat ok to say mine - though it was quite a 'spur-of-the-moment' thing. She asked me why I am so uncomfortable with sexual jokes, yet when i say something that could be interpreted as sexual, I'm the first to notice. I was like, why do you feel the need to constantly make sexual jokes - she shared her own history, and then I was like "I was coerced into sexual stuff when I was 8, and while it makes me uncomfortable, sexual stuff comes to my head by habit".
A note about that - I do feel kind of confused about that, about how I put my earphones in and feel uncomfortable when my friends make sexual jokes, but if they are sharing a joke or something they saw that is sexual of nature, and ask me if I want to see it, I get this hit of curiosity. I think the way i understand it is there are like 2 halves of me - the 8-year old I was, curious and not wanting to be left out of this sexual world He'd shown me, and then there's the older me who is pretty traumatized over the whole thing. So my 8-year-old brain doesn't want to miss out, and being asked if i wanna see it makes me more curious, but then when I see it, my traumatized brain is just like "oh no I don't like this, I don't want to feel the way I felt" and it's just kinda a mess.
But back on the original topic, I thought I would be more panicked when I said something. I mean, my heart was beating fast afterward (Not a particularly unusually thing for me) and my hand was slightly shaky, but it wasn't like full on panic yada yada yada. Made me think that maybe it would be so easy to tell my mum (WIth the threat of being reported still over my head, it would be better for me to just say it, eliminating the constant anxiety of her finding out) and then I realized that it would be harder, because she knew Him, and His grandfather is my nan's partner, so it just gets all messy and intertwined. Because her reaction will fit into one of two groups: saying that what happened wasn't a big deal (making me feel like shit becasue if its not a big deal why cant i get over it) or it really is a big deal (in which case I'm scared it'll get to nan and her partner, and then whenever I come over itll be messy and I'm just not here for that). ANother thing, I don't wanna do the whole emotional reveal and like "why didn't you tell me" etc. Part of the reason I haven't come out (I'm kinda gay by the way), even though my mum isn't at all homophobic, and I'm pretty sure she already knows (She said that she thought I was gay when i was like 11 or 12) I haven't said anything explicitly because I don't want the whole emotional reveal stuff.
So yeah, theres my ramble of the day. bye
Sometimes I still feel 8 years old. I feel trapped on that bed with nowhere to go, but still too afraid of making waves to call for help. I feel small. I feel 2 feet tall. Like I am an inconvenience to everyone. That my very existence is a hindrance. I feel lightweight, easy to manipulate. I feel like any person would be able to overpower me if they really wanted to. I feel short and skinny and weak, like even if I tried to stop, I wouldn't be able. Both literally and metaphorically. I'm still that 8 year old girl, too small and helpless to do anything, too afraid of getting in the way to tell anyone. I feel like, in the hierarchy of the world, I am always on the very bottom. Like, wherever I go, I don't belong. Like I'm just biding my time until everyone realises that I'm not where I should be.
It makes me so angry to know He exists. To have to know that he exists. I hate that they still live in that house, as if my trauma was just a stain on a carpet long since cleaned. I hate that they get to walk the halls that i cant get out of my head. His grandfather is my nans partner. Which means I'm lucky wnough to overhear them talk about Him now and then. Its always just so fun and conducive to my moving on. Inwas offered a piece of a pie that he made. Last christmas, he bought an $80 shirt. Just yesterday he was painting a room for his mother. I shouldn't know that. I dont want to know that. I dont want to know he exists. Because now i cant tell myself he could have moved out, i csnt suspend my disbelief. At any moment, any person on the street could be him. He could be the person walking behind me. I've started doing this thing, to give myself a small amoint of control, i just look away. If i see a person and think that could be him, i just look away. If i don't look, i dont have the possibility of looking at him.
Mkay i gotta go get ready for school
I've been thinking about the future lately, in relation to the past stuff this lovely little diary thing is all about. Because whether I like it or not, whatever I decide about the past, what happened, whose fault it was, etc etc, its still had an impact on me that i don't see leaving anytime soon. I'm aware of things, and afraid of things that don't really cross the minds of others.
I'm scared that when i go to uni in like 6-7 months, I'm going to get pressured into stuff. And not even like sex stuff, although i am onviously worried about that. But simple stuff like drinking, drinking games, and like truth or dare. He always got mad at me for picking truth when wed play truth or dare, because the dares were sexual, and i feel like if i were pressured to picck dare, or to drink, or to do sex stuff, that I'd just revert back to my 8-10 year old self and not speak up for fear of making waves.
One of my friends, the one i mentioned earlier, can sometimes be a littlw handsy for my liking. Its all jokingly and well meaning, but when she grabs my face to fake smooch me, or jokingly slap my butt if im laying across the tables at lunch, i sort of turn back into the child i was, feeling icky and uncomfortable but saying nothing, and I'm scared that in uni ill meet someone who isnt so well meaning, who wont stop when i sit up, or turn my head.
But I'm also worried that my fears are going to hold me back, that im going to misintepret aomething as innocent as my friend jokingly pullung my face near hers, and freak out unnecessarily. I want to be able to have fun in uni, not mess things up because i can't get over something thats been over for years.
I want to be able to come yo terms with this, and put it behind me. When i lost my best friend of nearly 10 years, it hurt. It hurt like hell for a long time. But eventually, I was able to move on. Things remind me of her, but i just kind of feel like a sad smile, rather than hysteria. I feel like with this, years and years later, I'm stuck at hysteria.
It makes sense. I mean I've never got the chance to get any cllsure on it all. I'll never truly know exactly what happened, how many times, my reactions, if i ever said no. And with my still being hyper vigilant whenever the phone rings, or my mum calls me, or someone knocks at the door, when i check the mail, even coming home from school, that this will be the day it all comes out. So i can't let it go, I can't put it to rest when I'm still that yung kid, scared that someone will find out.
But i really wish my mum did know. Because then there'd me no threat. And lre than that, maybe if she knew, She'd be able to help me work out some sprt of events. Like what year, or how many times i slept over. I dont know. I have done that a bit, with other, non problwmatic memories, just bouncing off her with what i remember vs what she does.
I jist feel like, if i could somehow watch it all play out, blow by blow, like a movie or a recording, if i knew exactly what happened and when, that I'd finally be able to put it to rest. Because for now there's still a million questions and a possible threat still over my head...
Eyyy so I've evolved.
If you though I was paranoid before, you should hear what happened today. It's a real bloody stitch up i tell ya.
Last night i made a really long post to a different site about just everything really, the stuff i talk about in this post, and all the other, impossibly ahitty things i deal with and are stacked up. This morning, i saw a couple people looking kinda sad and glancing at my phones, and exactly one person came near my general direction, before saying something unintelligible and walking the opposite direction. And you'll never guess what that ptompted me to think.....
"Oh my god, everyone's found that post and knows everything!"
Yeppp. Just when i though i couldn't get any more mentally fucked, my brain is just like "lets see just how high we can build this mental bull tower before she breaks completely?"
I'm not far from it. I was so anxious in class, i was on the verge of tears, i was naiseous, i couldnt concentrate. I can barely even function, i dodnt know how much longer before i cant hide how very essed up i am. I hope this gets shoved dpwn soom.