Trying to Keep Your Balance

One minute, it feels like there's a sense of balance. Then, you have no energy and fight hard to not black out. That's the pattern for the past few days. You know you're not crazy or paranoid. You're not going to snap, buy a gun and kill everyone who gets in your way. You don't want to hurt yourself or anyone else. You also don't want to rape a terrified innocent little kid because you got raped by three psycho pedophiles.I have no desire to have a connection with a pedophile. However, I've been told by some of my mental health sources that in ultra severe trauma cases, the survivor has some "identification" with the pedophile.

One minute, there's a sense of focus. You feel like you can actually focus for thirty seconds without dissociating. Then, that takes you back to when dissociating was violent and non-stop. From the time you wake up to when you go to sleep, you're bombarded with abuse and noise. Nobody can be bothered to listen or apparently care. Everywhere you turn, it's abuse.

Will anybody listen? What if nobody wants to listen? What do you do then? It's like someone telling a little kid to leave and never come back. The door shuts behind you, and all you have is yourself.

How is a little kid supposed to react to that?

By the end of the month, I'll have two exams with doctors retained by Social Security. As I go along and deal with different appointments, I make it a point to explain about my trauma history, because people need to know about it.

One minute, there's some sense of balance. Then, sadness and abandonment. You don't have a death wish. Yet the thought comes to mind. What if I wasn't here? Would ANYBODY care? Or are people so incredibly busy that they just can't be bothered. The easier thing to do is to say you don't exist. Problem solved.

I didn't ask to be raped. I didn't ask to be a trauma survivor. Yet I am. I will protect myself.

The law of karma applies to everyone. You're responsible for what you say and do. Nobody forced those horrible people that treated me like shit to do that. They chose to do it, and now you deal with the consequences.

It feels like endless stress. You fight PTSD symptoms, heart disease and all the rest of it. On certain days you can barely get out bed. How do I get out of my car and walk to my front door. I'm not  90 years old and suffering from arthritis, fibromyalgia and MS. Then why do I feel at times like I have all of these?

I just want to rest.