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Wednesday, June 26, 2019
My last blog post was June 1st. I've really had a great month of June. I've been doing some photography again and I was able to get away for a few days with my girlfriends in New Orleans and really relax. I think I went 2 days without a negative thought about abuse. It was heavenly.
But...last night in group, the spotlight fell on me for a bit. I've been participating every week but have chosen to stay under the radar with my issues, until last night. We have a new member and we introduced ourselves and gave a brief synopsis of why we were also participating in group therapy. I said, "I'm Stacie and I have depression, anxiety, and PTSD from childhood sexual abuse". Someone else took a turn and my mind started swirling. I HATE introducing myself like that. I know that I am defined by so much more but this title is what I view myself as. It is also the title that my group knows me as. I started sweating (like I am now just typing about it). I started to retreat in my mind. I was listening to others but not engaging, staring at the floor, fidgeting...and then I was called out on my behavior. Spotlight fell on me. I'm in group to talk about my issues, let others help hold my pain and also hold me accountable, get feedback from other individuals, and learn coping skills. I know this but I didn't want any part in this last night. I've made HUGE strides in talking about my abuse. I've been obedient in what, I feel, God has asked me to do. I just became angry last night, wanted to walk out, dig a hole and retreat, and not have anyone even look at me. My social worker asked me to use words, not actions but that is so very difficult for me. For me to feel the pain the abuse has caused, feels like it would be suicide. My defenses stay up, my emotional walls are made of concrete, and to be that vulnerable scares me to death. Because of these unhealthy coping skills, I remain on guard. My muscles always ache from tension. My head feels like it weighs 100 pounds. I fluctuate in weight. I'm selective on where I go. I have weird sleeping patterns, and I need medicine to be "happy". It's exhausting.
On the flip side, I know God's got me. My family is golden. My home is comfortable, and I have the best friends and coworkers a girl could ask for. I feel guilty for even complaining. The truth is -Trauma can take all of that and still trump it. It overpowers everything, especially when your defenses are weakened. It's a full time job managing it all.
Thank you for letting me vent. Continued prayers to all of the beautiful people who are victims of abuse. God bless!
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