Afraid to Write
I was talking with a friend of mine tonight. Somehow we got to talking about this month being an anniversary month. She wanted to know more and it brought up some painful feelings. I told her briefly what went on and that was it, my PTSD symptoms were activated. She wanted me to write or to talk about what happened. I told her I did. But now I am afraid to write because of my fears.
My sister brought up the night about my father and my cousin a couple of days ago. It hasn’t left my mind. They were there when my father flipped out and took out his gun. Though I don’t know where they were in the house. I was in the living room trying to watch TV and failing. I don’t even remember the show that was on. I was too into what was going on around me and frighten about what would happen. Never in a million years would I think my father would become so violent as to pull a gun on someone. Never. Sure he made threats to kill someone every now and then but I never thought he would go through with it. He was an angry man and still is.
I texted my therapist that I keep having flashbacks/intrusive memories. I know she is going to want to talk about what happened. I don’t know if I ever told the story in detail and I have had so many therapists that I thought I would be over this shit by now. Why is it affected more this year than any other year? Last year it didn’t bother me, not like this. I am afraid to write about it for fear of being pulled back and not being able to get out of 1991. I was 15 then and that was a long time ago.
Pain is keeping me from sleeping. Every time I lie down, my pain increases. If I sit up, it decreases. I wish I could sleep sitting up but I can’t. My back starts to ache and I need to lie down to relieve the pressure of sitting. I just need to wait till the pain meds start to kick in and make me drowsy enough so I can sleep. I am already tired so it shouldn’t be long. But then I never know when the meds will take effect. But if I my anxiety is up, forget it, like it is now. I have no chance of falling asleep.
I haven’t written in my journal for over a week now. I don’t know why that is. I keep staring at it and it stares back. I am afraid to write because I am not sure what feelings are going to get stirred up. If I describe my flashbacks, it will be too scary and I know I will not sleep. Best to avoid that kind of shit this late at night anyways. But my night time writing has always been my solace. It helps me to sleep. I just can’t trust it tonight, not when I have to be functional tomorrow to deal with angry father. Oh and if you are reading this, he is NOT my dad. Never was and never will be. He is my father and that is how he is to be named. Though lately, I prefer to call him fuckface, but that is my calling him that. No one else can.
Jack, my angry alter, came out the other night. I don’t know what triggered him but boy was he angry. I didn’t think he was ever going to settle down. He usually is mad at my therapist but I have had contact with her since Thursday. He thinks she is tired of me. He doesn’t trust her. I don’t blame him. He has been let down by so many therapists. He wanted to talk and they just shut him down.
For good measure, I took some Ativan. That ought to hold off the intrusive stuff. I really don’t want to talk about it with my therapist. It’s too scary.