PTSD

I have ptsd. I, me, this girl, has PTSD. Even after being told that I still don't feel worthy of this hurt, shame and...and...anything else it's caused me to feel. Really? Me? It was only abuse. It was so long ago. So long. Can't I just carry on? Without the memories, without the past?

Can't I just sleep, think, work, socialize, drive or even (yes, I'm saying it) pee without having those flashbacks? I can't believe I cry when I pee now. Ha, ridiculous. But I do, and even typing that makes me cry again.

How long until I can hold my head up, join a conversation and really pay attention to what everyone is saying? How about how much longer until I can trust a guy, relationship wise, to not abuse me after 6 months? How much longer until I can give an opinion freely, without feeling like a fool or an idiot? How much longer do I have to hurt alone? And hide it? How much longer until I can fall asleep without having flashbacks? And (pause for thought collection) not confess to those that I'm pushing away for self protection?

That's right friends, even you I can't trust right now. What happens if I tell you too much? What happens if you can't understand? What happens if I keep talking to you and you jokingly call me stupid, bitch, slut, idiot, whore, immature? Yes, I can't handle when you call me those things because 'he' used to. Those words broke me, not once 5 to 7 years ago, but again one month ago when I saw him, it all came racing back. It wrecks me every time I hear you say those words.

Do not apologize, just don't do it again.

I love you all, no matter how far I push you in the next while to come. No matter the mistakes I make. No matter the neglect I deal out. No matter the self-destructive path I am on, that you may get caught up in. I love you, my family and friends. Thank you (for the times I won't or don't say it) for your understanding, support, space and love.

Me. PTSD. Really

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