Well, I survived.
I may be hung-over and hurting, but I survived, which I guess is what’s important.
Yesterday was probably the hardest 11 October for me to get through since the fated 2007 day it commemorated. All day my mind was locked into the pain of that year; of the abuse, the suicide attempts, the illness, the rape and the lack of support from friends and health services.
And yet it didn’t occur to me until this morning, lost in the quagmire of hung-over deadness, why it was so much harder to get through than the last few years. It wasn’t just because it was the fifth anniversary but because the situation I am currently in is so similar to where I was in 2007; living alone in a dingy flat, no-one in real life to turn to for support, the belief that my life will never be better than this and the ongoing, ever-present loneliness that permeates through my life.
Five years and nothing has changed, despite all my best efforts.
I keep feeling I should apologise for my mood this week. For not writing decent blog posts and for filling those I have written with continual mentions of that day. It may look to some that I’m sympathy/pity seeking…but I’m not. I write what’s on my mind – and whether I like it or not – what’s been on my mind these last several days has been that day at the end of that year and the cavalcade of questions that have crippled me over the last half decade.
If I’d been kept in hospital, could the events of the last five years have been avoided? What if someone had believed the abuse, could I have avoided that noose? Would it have been better had I succeeded? What did I do to deserve what happened to me? Will I ever forgive myself? Will I ever be able to move past the pain? Or is this all I have to look forward to? Is this endless punishment all I deserve in life?
I know the answers to some of those questions; I just don’t believe them. It’s an unfortunate bi-product of the abuse, of being repeatedly told you’re the most worthless person to have ever lived, and when no-one is taking your side and telling you otherwise, sooner or later your mind just accepts it.
I’m still feeling mentally numb – something the hang-over isn’t really helping with – but I’m hoping that the worst is over and I’ll be able to return to writing and focusing on what I need to do to keep fighting. It is getting harder, I’ve been honest about that in the past, but until I have nothing left I will keep going.
For now, thank you to everyone for your support this week, it means more than I have words to describe :)
Now, does anyone have any paracetamol?