I’ve been waking up pretty horribly in the mornings. After the initial couple hours to recover, I’m more or less okay, but a bit out of it. More than a bit, actually.
I see that on Twitter I made the following posts:
Woke up with feelings of anxiety and dread. Still there though it’s a little bit better. Weather is not helping.
The nightmares are getting worse. The anxiety is getting worse. I want it to stop. I feel so sick.
The sun is bad. It was a sunny new years when my father did something so bad that I tried to run away. But he found me… my mother found me
She was there, she saw it but she dragged me back anyways. I remember bits of what my father did before I ran away. I don’t remember after.
Part of me is so frightened by the memory. Part of me is so incredibly furious it’s scary too. I was helpless. Even escaping was beyond me.
I want all those years lost to hell back. Over 20 years of my life beyond wasted. It was tortured. I want those years back. I want them mine
But they are so bad, those years. I don’t know what to do. If I let my feelings flow through they are scary and angry and that scares me.
Unsurprisingly I can’t stop crying.
I don’t even.