It all begins 5 months ago, which was exactly about 2 years after my SA.
There is no problem. I have no problem. Nothing really big happened that summer. I’m completely fine all the time. I mean minus the nightmares, not-sleeping, not-eating and feeling everything is completely pointless.
That first week back from working as an intern at a festival at the sea, I know something is changing in me. There is part of me that has enjoyed immensely the sea, the new people and memories, and that wants to save the experience and try to build from it. But there is the other part of me. The part I have pushed down for way too long. That festival, it has pushed me to the limit, and I can’t continue to deny what I have for 2 years.
I can’t, but I have to. The free week I have until I’m back at work is enough to get myself together, or so I say to myself.
Tough love baby! I just gotta make it through few more weeks of work.
I’ve made it 2 years, swimmingly, this is a baby job, I can do it in my sleep.
That one week I circle the apartment like a ghost. I don’t call my best friend, or my other friends, they don’t even know I’m back yet. I go out to buy food, I skype with my partner who is then back at his city. I sleep and circle the apartment like a ghost, trying to get myself ready for the coming week.
But I am not ready, not even a bit.
The truth is pushing under my skin, ready to come out, and I’m not ready to handle it. By accident, unfortunate one, that happens to be a busy week at work for everyone else, so no one really tells me what to do or checks it(I’m an intern, and mostly I’m told what is my task day by day, according to what is happening at the time).
Before I know it I spend my days skyping and vaguely browsing random things, trying to gather myself. I can’t. I stop sleeping the nights and I start to have nightmares again, which I profoundly ignore for the greater good-or to keep my sanity. With that little sleeping I’m afraid I’ll miss my alarm in the mornings, so I also start waking every hour, in the middle of those nightmares I’m so badly trying to forget.
I take 2 hours to handle myself to be ready for work, to push down the truth and cover the dark circles under my eyes. I take long 2-3 hour walks in the park after work, blasting music in my ears, trying to clear my head and get in positive attitude again, still refusing to admit what I’m clearing it from. It’s few weeks, I’m not a baby, I can handle few weeks at work. Than I can fall apart as much as I want to. No one is asking me though. Everything seems so pointless. Every minute seems endless. I’m trying to regain clarity, and somehow on the way, I’m loosing myself. Everything becomes hard, everything seems so hard that it feels pointless to even attempt anything.
I come home feeling like a ghost. I eat by habit, but the food has no taste. I buy my favorite foods, but everything tastes the same. I start crying when I’m waking up. I cry before work, I cry in the bathroom at work, I cry when I walk through the park, and then again before I go to sleep. The nightmares become more clear and I remember them now, and they push through my well ordered life. They start to make me nauseous, and then I’m not only not sleeping, but I wake up in panic, throwing up. Like a well oiled machine, I keep going during the day, although in all fairness I only pretend to work. But I get through the days anyway.
The nights are different. My whole body is aware now. Finally I’m not too drunk or too tired, or anything else, and I don’t sleep well. I watch series to avoid the depressing thought that there is another day coming. I wake from the nightmares, I cry, or throw up or both, and then hope to fall asleep again, but there is no such luck. Finally conscious, aware of all my hidden past, my body is betraying me once again. My heart is pounding like a hammer in my chest, radiating through my skull and all the way down my spine, and I can’t calm down for long long time, before I fall asleep again. My whole body knows I’m in danger. I can not pinpoint of what exactly, or how I started waking like that, but it happens every night, few times. My nights are half-hour sleep patches with lots of throwing up, nightmares, and all my nerves fired up, my heart beating like crazy, knowing I have to be prepared. I can not tell you for what. I try to remind myself I’m safe at home, and I have a regular day at work tomorrow, and that’s all, but my body refuses to listen. Somehow, something has to change, but I can not tell what.
Something is deeply wrong, something has been deeply wrong for a long, long time, but I have no clue what.
Everything is just pointless.
And somehow, I know, on inner level, that it has something to do with that summer I mention all the time, but never reaaaally think of.
Because nothing really big happened that summer. I mean there were all the death and homeless and addicted people, and me not having money to even eat, when I was trying to save money for university, when I was an ocean away from home and everyone I knew. There was the small matter of being raped and all that….but that’s not a big deal, it’s been 2 years, so I have to get over myself…
I tell myself that over and over again.
There is no problem. I have no problem. Nothing really big happened that summer. I’m completely fine. I mean minus the nightmares, not-sleeping, not-eating and feeling everything is completely pointless.