A little over a year has past.
NO more financial support. NO more psychiatric support. Only a year's time to nurture my mind.
When the one year mark passed, I reflected quietly and told myself that life just has to move on. Of course it has, and I have had a few realizations is the continuum of time.
That girl/woman/mom is gone. I will never be the same again. I am ok with this. I suppose others won't, and I will gravitate towards others that will accept me as I am. I talked to Lydia, my daughter, about this, and she is fine with it, so she says. I worry what sort of impact this may have on her life. I want her to see me strong and able, and not vulnerable. I'm failing.
I prefer the comfort of my home and animals. I love nothing more than a chat with the kid, and dinner at home. I simply don't want to be a social butterfly, let alone meet and greet folks on a daily basis.
Drama, stress, and responsibility for others lives are triggers for me, and I refuse to participate in any of it.
Strangely enough, I have chosen to enter the customer service world. It seems I still am interested in people, and love to talk to them, just don't want to make a personal connection with them, ever. It works for me right now.
I cry inside every day. I suppose a mini pity party. It has made me hard, and more aware than I have ever been in my life. People suck overall, which I am sure everyone knows and I look forward to the day when this rock we inhabit gives up and we dissolve away from worry and angst.
So I pray.
I skip day to day thinking I am better. Then I find my daughter walking me away from some stillness in time. Never knowing when the PTSD might surface is fucking awesome. The good news -- I'm grateful for a daughter that understands more than most people my age. If you take anything from my words, remember that one does not simply "get better" from a rape, or from any traumatic event.
The purpose of this missive is twofold. I sincerely want to tell my dear friends that even though I don't make an effort to make appearances, I still hold you all in my heart and love you dearly. I've thought a lot about how wrong it is to isolate myself, but I'm allowing it, because I can. For those of you that continue to contact me, and love me despite my estranged situation, THANK YOU. so there is that.....
More importantly, I wanted you all to learn along with me. Even though I'm hiding, and doing the best I can, I have learned what NOT to do as a friend to someone who is struggling. Don't treat people differently. Hugs and people heal. If your friend chooses isolation, go to them. That doesn't have to mean literally. Pretending that you are helping by giving them space does not help. Dropping a line via email, a text, even a reference to your friendship in a conversation sometimes is enough to just help someone make it through the day. Depending on your level of friendship, react accordingly.
Everyday I hope for the best. I have my daughter, and my dogs, and my family and my friends. I love my house at the beach, and the comfort it brings me.
Finally, I want you all to know that help is available. If it wasn't for the many resources available, I probably would not be here writing this.
And in other news:...anyone want a cat?
