Tag Archives: sexual abuse

Useless appointment and other things

Useless appointment and other things

I had little sleep last night. In my painsomnia brain, I had decided to have an 0815 alarm. Why, I don’t remember. I just shut it off and went back to sleep. I am glad I didn’t touch my med alarm or I would have been screwed. I forced myself in the shower. It was cold this morning so I had to wait for the water to get hot. I had shaved around 4 am when I couldn’t sleep and decided to give myself the shot then rather than wait. One less thing to do in the morning.

I was getting sleepy waiting around so left my house around 0930 or so, an hour before I was to leave. I made it to the place with plenty of time to spare and I forced myself not to go into the bookstore next to the Starbucks. I wrote in my journal for a bit. I was anxious and it had nothing to do with the 6 shots of espresso I was drinking. I finally left around 1230 to find the building and office. It was at the end of a long hallway. I sat in the waiting room and 15 minutes before the appointment, the guy introduces himself and said he would be back. I said okay. He came back and opened an office and called me in. We talked about my different issues and he basically said there was nothing he could do for me as he wasn’t the type of therapist to give coping skills. He just did “talk therapy” and that was it, same as the one I was seeing. Fucking A. He said that I had “somatic pain” and he didn’t deal with that. WTF. I wanted to scream at him but there was no point. I said thank you for your time and left. I was bullshit. He could have told me last week that he didn’t deal with my issues. Why did he have to see me in person to tell me this??? Why do therapist do this?? I am so fucking angry. Now I got to go back to the nail picking therapist I am seeing. Fucking fuck. Total waste of time when I could have been sleeping!!!

I came home and I was not in a good mood. I just wanted to be in my PJs, under my blankets, and fiddle with social media. My Transition photo op didn’t get that many likes. I didn’t have much to say as it was like 5 AM and my brain was dead. It was a miracle I could string two words together, much less a few sentences. I realized I didn’t take a selfie for day 7. I got to be better about it. But there really hasn’t been any changes so no big deal.

I emailed my psychiatrist about being in a therapist jinx. Either that or I am on some black list. I had sent her and my neuro an email at I have no idea what time in the morning as I experience dystonia yet again last night. It wasn’t as bad as the first time and thankfully, my compression sock came to the rescue. It calmed it down enough so I could sleep for a few hours before my alarms went off.

Sox game is tonight. My left thigh is sore from the shot. I thought I did a lot of walking to ward it off but maybe not enough. My mother wanted me to go to the Square to get the money owed to me from the cheese I bought. I wasn’t going to the square. I won’t be going tomorrow either. I will be going Friday so I hope the sale price doesn’t change by then. It shouldn’t matter but you never know how picky managers are. I still have the receipt in my wallet. Hope I remember to go to the butcher shop before meeting up with my friends.

I don’t know if I will make it through 9 innings of baseball on like 4 hours sleep. I tried to take a nap but then I got really cold, like almost to the point of chills. I put on my long sleeved shirt. I will be putting on my Sox jersey an hour before game time. Game is on late, 2030, tonight because the MLB sucks. They have the west coast national game at like 2 pm. Who is going to watch the game at that time?? Idiots. I just don’t understand what their thinking is when they schedule games. I also don’t understand why they all can’t be prime time. Oh wait, that would make sense. Duh! I will listen to what I can and then whatever I don’t, I will catch up tomorrow. I am not going to force myself to stay up because then I get over tired and that does me no good at all. Then I sleep whenever, which usually repeats the cycle of no sleep. Sucks. I learned my lesson. Sleep when I am tired. I should try and sleep now but it is too early and then I will be up all night. Catch 22 I know. I am not really that tired. Just mentally exhausted from this asshole I saw. I am glad he didn’t work out because after three sessions I am sure I would be telling him fuck you and walk out. It shouldn’t be this hard to find someone to talk to. It really shouldn’t. Maybe I am too smart but there has got to be someone on the same level as I am out there. I don’t care if who I see is a he or she. There has to be someone, somewhere. I think I am going to ask the bozo therapist at the pain clinic for a referral. Maybe she knows someone. Long shot but at this point I’ll try anything. I might look up DBT therapists in my area. That is how desperate I am becoming and I hate DBT!

the hubbub

The hubbub

*****WARNING COULD BE TRIGGERING*******

Not sure if anyone of you remember the TV show (US) ER. The actor that played Dr. Green, Anthony Edwards is one of my favorite actors. When he left the show, I kind of stopped watching it because the story lines stunk. Anyways, today he wrote an article on Medium.com about his sexual abuse by a pedophile. He wasn’t the only boy affected by this. His best friend was raped by the guy. He wrote about how pedophiles prey on their victims and often use the word “love” as a way of controlling the victims and their emotions.
It hit a deep nerve, something I have never talked about on here before. I was molested by a family member. Other family members knew this one did this. They warned me about them but they seemed like a nice person so I didn’t heed the warning. Even after they were jailed, I was blamed for the abuse because I was warned and that I should have known better. I was 12 when it started and didn’t end till I was 14, when the advances were more advanced (for lack of a better word). They were 12 years older than me. One day we were on their couch, and somehow we ended up on the floor. They pinned me down and I couldn’t break free. Their genitals were over mine. The only way for me to be free was by saying I loved this person and had to kiss them multiple times and to say it over again. I was really scared because they were at least 250 or more pounds and I was a mere 125. When I was free, we just sat on the couch but they sat close to me and they put their arm around me so it would touch my breast. I kept moving their hand but it didn’t matter.

Another time, we were in their pool and the pool’s ladder had injured their genitals but being a pre-pubescent kid, I didn’t know that. I just knew their groin hurt. After the pool, it was the same deal. They would lock their front door as we “watched” TV, careful to put the chain lock on so there wouldn’t be any interruptions. This time, I was messaging the area. I don’t know how they got me to do it but I did. Turns out after a little while I was messaging their privates while they were in their underwear. My hand was not on the underwear part. I refused to see what I was doing as it felt wrong. When I stopped the message, they continued and when I looked over at them, their privates were out in plain view. This asshole then asked me if I wanted that kind of message on me. I said no but had a few breast strokes and kisses, not intimate. I felt sick once I realized what I had done.

Years later when I accused this person of abuse, they denied it and even their partner denied it because they would have seen the “signs”. Yea, right. It all boiled down that the perpetrator loved me and that was why they did what they did, out of love. I was so sick by this. My mother blamed me because I went to the pedophile’s house a lot of the time. I couldn’t help it. It was better than my home life where I had an abusive father, though I would much rather have my father’s abuse over the pedophile’s. I am glad my father was never told what this pedophile did or they might not be alive today or worse, my father might have said that I deserved it in his narcissistic mind because the pedophile wronged him by “destroying his family”. My father would always blame someone else for his wrongdoings. But that is another issue for another day.

With all the sexual abuse accusations coming at high standing men, whether in politics or Hollywood, it has me triggered into remembering my abuse by the various people that abused me. It wasn’t only the pedophile. I don’t feel free to say who the other family member was, I probably will in therapy but not on this media. I was also raped and abused by an ex-girlfriend. Since then, I have not had a relationship, mostly because of my nerve injury but also because I am afraid of flashbacks.

Lots to talk to my therapist on Monday. I know a lot of women and men are coming out with their story of abuse, which they should. It’s important because it gives others the chance to come forward as well. I am not saying it is easy because when I told one of my therapists about an abuser, that abuser slapped me when I was near them as it was a “false” accusation. I have kept quiet about this for a long time and it’s being stirred up. Abusers don’t like confrontation or being exposed. They will deny it to their dying breath. There is no remorse with them. My ex was kind of remorseful when I talked to her about it but she also played it off. We never became friends as it was impossible. I was hurt too much, though she did reach out a few times. She had more problems than I ever had. But Karma will get these bastards, one way or another. I firmly believe that.

early morning post

It’s almost five o’clock in the morning. I woke up to go to the bathroom and when I returned to my room, my foot didn’t like it. I am in so much pain right now it’s not funny. I don’t know why this happens. I was in pain before bed but nothing like this. It really kills me.

I took the day off yesterday. All I did was sleep. I was watching the baseball game but couldn’t stay awake for it so took a nap. I guess my activities on Saturday really wore me out. I am finding that if I do a lot for one day, the next day I need to recover from. It is typical of those suffering from CES, Cauda Equina Syndrome.

I got tweeted a post about a study on coffee and suicide. Turns out that if you drink more than 2 cups a day, you are at a 50% reduction rate for suicide. Now if only I can bring myself to have two cups of coffee a day, maybe the suicidal thoughts will decrease. The article can be found here.

I just realized that with my therapist on vacation, I have the ENTIRE week to myself. I have NO appointments. I don’t know if that means I will have a long week or not. But it frees me up to go for coffee earlier in the afternoon. Maybe I can work on my lyric book. This book is about songs that have meaning to me. I write down the lyrics and then write a few pages about what the song means to me. So far, all I have done is write down the lyrics. I haven’t done any interpretation of the song. I figure I will do that later. As far as my book is coming along, well it’s not. I haven’t written anything in it in weeks, with the exception of adding a blog story to it. I figure if I write a blog that has some meaning or tells my story, I would tack it on.

I had a weird experience last night. My niece was cuddling with me while we were watching a movie. I know she wasn’t going to molest me, but she kept on using my breast as a pillow and I got uncomfortable. I then almost panicked that she was going to start touching me. But she is eight years old so that is very unlikely. I have a history of sexual abuse from a cousin and it would start out that way. I just go very uncomfortable but tried to work it out. I guess I don’t like cuddling very much because of that incident. It was really difficult and I had to keep reminding myself that she was only eight and was not going to hurt me. I hate when I get sensory flashbacks. They are not fun!