I feel exceptionally alone right now. More and more I am hearing of people talking behind my backs, deciding for themselves that what I have said is too far-fetched/fantastical and that I’m making it stuff up. What hurts more is that some of these people are people I have classed as close friends, and to my face they act like they believe me. I have trusted people with the most fragile and precious parts of me, and I keep hearing how it’s stamped on… I now no longer know who I can trust, if anyone at all. I now want to keep my memories private and not discuss any more of them. Trust…shattered.
And my emotions…my emotions in this new layer of recovery..they totally isolate me. I feel alone in this extreme level of grief. I go between intense grief for my babies, or for the the children, to grief for myself. I am plagued with almost constant visual flashbacks, where I am again forced to watch what I went through…what people put me through for years.
And now? I don’t know who I can ask for help. If people say “I believe you…you can trust me”…will I believe them? Can I handle another betrayal? Dare I try and trust again? Do people not think I wish more than anything that none of this was real? Have they ever actually thought about what it’s like LIVING IN THIS FUCKED UP SHIT?!!?!? You had your childhoods. You can leave uni and never think about this again. You have your future with your parents without having to plan to the finest detail anything you do so that you don’t end up triggered. Do people think I like this?! Yes, clearly, I just LOVE waking up in the night shaking and crying after just remembering holding my baby for the last time, or the feeling of a corkscrew being ripped inside me, or the smile on my own grandfather’s face whilst I cried as a small child. Yes, I love the violent flashbacks in which I have to re-live such trauma…the cruel irony of recovery; I can only recover if I remember. I can only remember if I re-live. I can only recover if I go through the trauma…again.
But of course I’m just making it all up. I like nothing more than lying in bed at night crying my eyes out because my life is a spiral of out-of-control madness with so much heartache and pain, and traumatic memories, and an uncertain future. I clearly love this. I love watching students my age doing normal student things with no worries, knowing I couldn’t do half of it because there’d be too much of a risk of triggers.
I want my baby. I want the children who were with me and so of course believed me. I hate my life. I hate betrayal. I hate not knowing who to trust anymore, whatsoever. I hate my memories.
I feel so entirely alone now. But I think maybe…that’s the best plan. Nobody can hurt me, betray me, bitch about me, lie to my face, pretend to give a shit, use my life with such senselessness, etc etc etc…nobody can make undermine this grief, this pain, this recovery, my life, the CHILDREN FROM THAT PLACE WHO HAPPEN TO BE PART OF MY MEMORIES, and my right to cry if I remain totally alone. Just with the help of professionals.Jesus God let me have my babies back 😥 😥