Sitting home today, just over 24 hours since my second therapy session with my new doctor, and all my friends are saying” congratulations MIA hope it helps” I suppose eventually it might help, the doctor has been honest with me and it will take a very long time.
The part that nobody gets is, therapy for PTSD is a sick dichotomy because you’re there because of what happened to you and the horrors and nightmares they have caused sometimes as in my case decades later and yet to start treatment you have to relive them in minute detail all over again. It’s kind of like shooting a gunshot victim all over again to heal the original gun shot. I mean I’ve heard of the hair of the dog, but it would have been nice if someone warned how vicious the dog was.
No one tells you when they talk about PTSD about the sitting straight up in the middle of the night screaming, noone ever mentioned that when your brain isn’t busy for just a second the memories jump in and the hell ever called them nightmares because I can tell you you don’t have to be asleep and it doesn’t have to be night time. Suddenly every TV show I loved to watch is too hard ,every cop show is a memory every movie about child abuse has me leaving the room it’s like the past has repossessed your soul molestation is the only crime where even when it’s over it gets to victimize you over and over again for life. It’s like the ground hog day from hell but no-ones laughing.
Even now as I type memories are flashing through my head, this next week is my birthday and I am more than halfway through my life and the first decade and a half of my life was spent as someone toy yet more than 35 years since the monster crawled into my soul and yet every time I close my eyes he’s back.
There are those who will read this and say “35 years ago get the fuck over it” and those people are the same people that “you got raped? It happened once so what” what the naysayers don’t realize is there some things in life that never heal. Some cuts you can’t see on the skin but they’re bleeding non stop underneath. Whether you believe in a soul or not it doesn’t matter, what ever you choose to call that part of you where everything bad is pushed down and everything good if there is any good in your life lives, well that part is ripped out to the very depths of your being.
The first time a monster who you used to call daddy, coach, pastor or even brother doesn’t tuck you in but instead they crawl in, crawl into your bed ,crawl into your very soul and sorry Mr naysayer but I happen to know they never crawl out, never.
I hope the doctor is good at what she does but I have no hopes, hopes that in the dark of night when to any one looking in you’re alone but you know the truth your not alone and you haven’t been in 3 decades and you never will be again. That has to be OK because if it isn’t then life can only be dark, only be hell, but hell’s OK because when you have PTSD because you have been there for a long time. Don’t worry I’ll keep doing the work and keep on going because I believe in chance, ,I believe in the roll of the dice, I believe when a doctor says there’s less than a 5% chance someone has to be in that 5% and maybe ,just maybe this time it might be me?