I’m not trying hard enough. I could do more. Yet, at the same time, I’m completely exhausted from trying a little bit and I don’t know how to push myself any further. I seem to be in a constant state of needing distraction. I can’t put my phone down. I’m plagued with thoughts of ‘it was your fault’ and ‘you’re making it up’ regarding the rapes and therapy isn’t helping me process those feelings. I’m turning to food as a comfort but that’s just making me fatter. I just feel so isolated and stranded and lost. All these horrible memories and images are flooding my brain and I can’t process them. I don’t know how to bring it up in my therapy sessions but I’m going to have to find a way. I’m coping, in the sense that I’m not using behaviours and I’m functioning (albeit at a low level compared to ‘normal’ people, but at a good level for me) but my thoughts are just so negative and intense. I know, rationally and logically, that being raped was *not* my fault. But emotionally I can’t make the same conclusion. I didn’t fight back. I wore a shirt with the word slut on. I didn’t scream. I just fucking lay there and let him get on with it. I know I said to him ‘I don’t want sex with you’ . I said that. Clearly. I can remember it. Vividly. The main memory I struggle with is him going down on me and asking me if I liked it. It makes my skin crawl. It makes me want to tear my skin off. But did I like it? Did I *enjoy* it, physically? Emotionally, no, I hated it and wanted to die but physically I’m not so sure. I hear him, as clear as I can hear a television, saying that to me. I’m nearly throwing up just writing this. I just want rid of these intense memories, these flashbacks where I’m back there and it’s happening all over again, the sick feeling when anyone talks about sex in front of me, the outright terror when a strange man innocently touches me. I want to be able to deal with my triggers without throwing up over myself. I want to be able to deal with the scary, big wide world. I don’t want to be frightened anymore. I want to feel like I’ve SURVIVED those awful nights. To not doubt and blame myself. To live without shame. Why should I feel ashamed? Why should I direct my anger at myself instead of at the fucking rapists. They’re the ones that deserve my rage, not me. I was innocent. So why can’t I believe it with my whole heart and soul? Why am I stuck in denial and self blame? From now on, I’m going to cut myself some slack. Accept that what happened, happened. Stop blaming myself. Stop doubting my own feelings and memories. I’ve taken so many positive steps recently and I just need to keep going with them. Keep walking this road. Let go of the feelings that plague me. Push through it. Stay strong. I can do this and I *will* be okay. Maybe not every day, but most days, I will be okay.