I’ve talked about a lot of things over the year that have resulted in people responding “I thought I was the only one!” or “Wait, this is normal?”

It’s generally been about Brazilian wax farts, my uterus, chin hairs, nipple hairs, orgasms on the treadmill, and those weird stinky things that get caught up in the back of your throat.

I’ve also covered crummier stuff: secondary infertility, antenatal depression, regular ol’ depression, endometriosis, and a marriage attempting to survive graduate school.

However sexual assault, rape, PTSD, multi-diagnosed mental illnesses, sociopathy, triggers, shock…well those are things I’m still navigating. I can’t say a whole lot about them with certainty because I have yet to come out of the other side of them, and while I’ve made it awfully far, I still have a very long way to go.

Good news? I have a therapist who can sit across from me every week and give a name to what I’m experiencing. I never considered my experience worthy of being called PTSD. PTSD is what happens to people who have been in war. Shot at. Lost limbs. Watched friends die.

Not for girls who got raped. Girls who got raped did something to deserve it, right?

Wrong.

Someday when I’m strong enough there will be many, many words on rape culture and raising girls in this mess we’re currently in.

There have been several instances in the last year that have left me in shock. Literal shock, not just figurative shock. Have you ever experienced something that wasn’t quite traumatic, but was incredibly upsetting? For me, I am able go about my daily tasks feeling as though I am floating above myself, “Clearly this can’t be real. Maybe it isn’t that big of a deal? This feels like it should be a big deal. But look at me functioning! (Kind of? I think?)” only to completely and unexpectedly fall apart several days or weeks later. That’s shock! It’s not very elegant or obvious, it’s simply a clever way our brains protect ourselves until we’re able to deal with whatever happened. Knowing that at some point I’m going to fall apart after something really stressful happens makes it much easier to be patient with myself when it does happen. (And much easier for those around me to understand. I also try to stay out of public because my let down from stress generally comes in the form of the ugliest, loudest, most guttural sobbing requiring no less than half a roll of double ply toilet paper or one small box of tissues.

So far nothing I’ve been through has been completely solo. Someone has been able to relate to every part, just not all of them collectively.

Blech. This has been really hard to write and it’s getting harder. So I’m just going to stop right here.

Grace.

In the meantime, someday I will do something like this.

 

 

 

 

Comments

  1. I’m really glad you’re posting again. You’ve been through some incredibly difficult and ugly things and I’m just happy you are still around and sharing what you’re experiencing. It’s important for you but it’s also important for other people to see your words.

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  2. I agree with Mar. It is so good to see your words.

    And I love what the Mimi Foundation did. The look of it joy and surprise on their faces, just beautiful.

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  3. so happy to read you again. (((hugs)))

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