Once again, it is going on five in the morning and once again I lay in my bed with eyes wide open. My mind just un-willing to shut down no matter how tired I become. I always know that once night falls, the memories will inevitably come falling back. And the no…the reason, because I can’t sleep, isn’t because I am scared of the dark. It is because I know deep inside what lives in the dark as well as what kind of monsters rear their ugly heads once night falls. I can remember!
I remember the way he smelled, the way he sounded, and the way he felt pressing up against me. I even remember every hit I took and the way they each individually felt. Everyday afraid to leave my house because it feels as though people are looking and whispering about me…the girl who fell in too deep. The fear does not ever really go away...it only just slightly fades with time.
Surviving means forcing yourself to roll out of bed by noon even though every ounce of your being is telling you to stay in bed all day because your motivation is at zero. It means picking yourself up when you feel like everything is worthless, like you are worthless. I cannot count the times that I have had a literal breakdown over nothing...basically because I was stressed about going through what I already had. Every day, just going through the motions knowing what I knew. Every day seeing people around laughing and smiling while they had no idea what had happened. I wanted their days for being so happy just because I was going through something. Which, of course, I knew that was wrong so I didn't do it, but it did not mean I was not tempted. That is surviving...sometimes holding in your emotions to protect those around you from being sucked in; so to speak.
No longer do I seem to have the energy to play the guitar or write music. No longer do I even want to get out of bed in the morning.
He broke me in ways that I thought I could not be broken in a million years. I mean, let’s face it…my childhood was not exactly a cake walk. However, thinking that you are strong and being strong are two different things apparently. Because now I am different.
No more smiles because smiling just does not seem like a normal thing anymore…or maybe it is just me. Actually, there are some days where running away does seem like the appropriate response. Because that would even be better than being forced to deal with the issues that plague me and I am sure that I am not the only person who feels that way. But you can only run so far and so fast before your issues eventually catch up to you. And they will!
In all honesty, I am a survivor of rape as well as domestic violence. I was left broken and bruised literally laying on the bathroom floor while my boyfriend did nothing to help. And I couldn’t go to the police because of who they were; plus I really have no family so I was on my own. For the longest time, I could not speak of the horrors that occurred on that particular afternoon. Nor could I even say the word. But that is when I realized that I did not want the label of ‘victim’.
Even though I am now working through my PTSD, depression, and anxiety…I realized that I did survive. Like many others before me, it could have been way worse and we are survivors. And even though the recovery process is hard when we as people go through something traumatic, there is hope on the other side.
Mental health is not something to mess with so if anyone goes through something that affects their mental health status, I highly recommend seeking help. Or if seeking help is out of the question, then talk to a friend. Because there is always someone willing to listen. As long as it is someone you trust.