Redemption Room #3


Psychiatry visits make me fidgety. Ten minutes into our conversation and my surroundings start to feel surreal, like I’m playing out a scene from Girl Interrupted or something. Intrusive thoughts of being hauled off to the psych-ward loop over and over so, I just smile and nod as much as possible. The doctor’s bedside manor is sweet but his rhetoric is brackish at best. He try’s to reassure me that my thoughts are normal, that I’m not crazy. I wondered if he could sence the inner conversation that I was having with myself during our session.

I talk myself through a lot bullshit. It’s a technique that I learned at a young age. I was nine the first time I stepped foot into a mental health clinic . My grandmother passed away, we were extremely close and I wasn’t handling it well. The time after that I was thirteen. I had my first bout of panic attacks and major depression. I thought that I had gone insane but the therapist assured me that I was not. She taught me how to get through them with deep breathing exercises and positive self talk. I was good for a long time after that, until I was twenty five.

At that point it was the worst that it had ever been. It came on suddenly and it came on viciously. For five months I was a paranoid mess. My mind was constantly racing with negative looping thoughts. I felt as if I was loosing control of myself. I was terrified of sharp objects of any kind and avoided them as much as possible. I did not want to be alone. I was unable to function at work. It felt as if I was being tormented by an invisible force. I would cry all the time because I had convinced myself that I would be stuck in that state for the rest of my life.

I was desperate to know what was going on with me and what triggered it. I sought out a few different avenues of help, a psychiatrist and therapist. Both doctors concluded that my issues stemmed  from childhood trauma. Physical, mental and sexual abuse. These horrible things can lay dormant for years and manifest themselves as horrible monsters later on in life. In my case that is exactly what occurred.

I have overcome much in my life, things that no one should have to deal with. I am a stronger women for it but there are bits of those things that will always stay with me I think. The most recent bullshit has been within the last two or three years. It has cause me much metal anguish and destroyed what little self esteem I had left. Its time that I fully address it. I truly just want to move on and never think about that person EVER AGAIN. I have never dealt with anyone as ugly or cruel before and I feel that is partly why they have effected me so much. That person will always be selfish. They certainly were  never worth the pain.

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