The Broken Girl

My therapist tells me that I need to lean on others for support right now, after dealing with the retraumatization of seeing my rapist. It's so hard though. It's hard for me to put myself out there, to reach out, because no one says anything anymore. No one knows what TO say. Everyone is sick of talking about it. I'M sick of talking about it. So I sit, alone with these thoughts and this pain. Which in turn further isolates me.

I just want these thoughts to go away. They're constantly churning through my brain. Y'know that statistic that says that humans think about sex every 6 minutes or something like that? Well, sex has been replaced by my assault, and the ante has been upped to every 3 minutes. It. Never. Goes. Away.

I just want some tool that will make it stop. Some magical psychological tool that will work to free my brain of this. Because this is no way to live.

I had such high hopes in the beginning of my recovery. Now? Now I don't see anything ever changing. I feel like I'm unraveling.

I worry that this is how people will always see me. The Girl That Was Raped. I worry that I'm pushing myself into that role. I worry that talking about it more furthers that concept of me. So I don't talk about it. But it's always in my head.

So what do I do? Oh, I'm supposed to talk about it. To people who either a) don't care, b) don't know what to say. I understand, you want it to go away. You don't want to think that this really happens, certainly not to people you care about. You don't want to think that this is such a traumatizing event that your friend will be forever tortured by.

I'm sorry to shatter your wishes. Mine were shattered, too.