Trigger: insane gibberish.
I am here, I am happy, the house is superlovely, though just last night I thought it may be dark, squashed… It is a cottage, really. But happy, all my knowledge is in that direction, it tells me I’m happy.
But my past comes back to haunt me, scenes, endless, an infinite amount of them, all the things I did or had done to me and all the talk, the rubbish, those feelings never acted upon. Following the path of least resistance was disastrous, again and again, but I kept on following it and when that wasn’t good enough, I would wilfully throw myself even deeper, even further. I know where the thoughts lead so I look fort betablockers, I didn’t bring them to our friends’ house for the night. So I follow my course tutor’s advice and just “notice” it. Don’t let my husband trigger me as always. I ask a question and he tells me what he heard and that horrible hideous picture of me is once again put together and shown to me, and I feel that’s it, that’s what you are, were and always will be.
I didn’t hear those words coming out of my mouth, the thoughts… I had driven them away or so I thought, evidently not and he showed me. And I feel helpless: my ruse no longer works, I have nobody else to see me how I would like to see myself.
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