Category : Diary/Journal

Sub Category : N/A

I didn't want to get involved. I tried to crawl in my hole and ignore it. I mean, how could this possibly help? That case. That pain. I shut myself away from it, but it still got to me. Under my skin. Reminded me of pain. All of the fucking pain. I couldn't stop it. 
I thought I was okay until I was in therapy today, though there were subtle signs the pain was going to be intense. 
So here I am drained. Questioning pain I thought I was over. Like what would it be like to go public? How would my family react? Would they leave? I yelled. I rarely yell, but I just wanted to be heard. In another post by me I mentioned the sexual assaults I've been through. 
Well, writing is my only solace. It helps me cope, so bear with me. Please.
It all started with a weird dream that left me anxiety ridden. I chose to let my anxiety write this story. First draft, twelve or thirteen pages. I'll clean it up and share it here by month's end. The story was coming along great. Then snippets of life I didn't think would be relevant to the story became very relevant. I shrugged it off. 
Then I mentioned to my therapist that people were being a bummer... She asked why, of course. Then I was getting upset. 'I know it's a he said, she said. I know. I almost got arrested because of that.' Even though the roles were reversed. 'I was blamed. I asked the cop a hypothetical and when he asked if I wanted to report anything I smiled like nothing was wrong and left.' '... And that was the second time in Colorado! There was this other friend... Well my friend set me up... ...' I explained it all again like it had happened yesterday than years ago. And as my therapist spoke... My jaw dropped. My friend had set me up. The one I ran to... She knew and let it happen... This person hasn't been in my life for YEARS, and now my mind won't shut up. 
Why am I reacting like this? I was FINE...