I could barely afford to have therapy when I lived in the city and now I live hours away from the closest mental health facilities I can't get help. So I decided to try a little self help with a book. I got a book about anxiety and read from post traumatic stress (which I suffer from thanks to be raped) and I read through the entire chapter. Then got hysterical and had an anxiety attack. Yes I am aware of the irony of having an anxiety attack whilst reading a book about anxiety. It was just all too much. Reading about myself, my symptoms and all the horrid things I've suffered in such a clinical fashion it upset me so much. They used an example of a girl who'd had abusive parents and then got raped as a result of trying to escape them and trying to get acceptance that she craved from her parents. yeah that stings.
Days later after this I was chatting to Paul on the phone about high school and he cut me with these words "Yes I've heard things like eleven times already, I know you use it as a measure to make sure you are better than your dad." It hurt more than anything. Paul is honest which I love but I didn't need to hear that. All I could think is stop repeating yourself you stupid girl and stop being so open because you'll get slammed in the chest again. I cried hysterically for an hour before going to sleep. Paul wants me to trust him but he is like me in that he doesn't realise that some truths I am not ready for. I kept telling myself whilst I was crying in bed that I would never tell him anything again and that I couldn't trust him with certain things.....in all honesty I am unsure if I can trust him completely right now. His brutal honesty is constantly cutting me and making me cry. Which is actually what a good therapist does......except a therapist knows when to back off. Paul hasn't got that down pat really well. I have to beg him to stop talking and attacking me and sometimes he doesn't which is making me wary of trusting him which sucks as what sort of relationship can we have if I am afraid of him all the time?
No comments:
Post a Comment