Last night I had a mild nightmare about running into a few of the people who have sexually assaulted me. It only bothered me a little bit and didn’t seem to affect my day very much.
And that made me realize that I’m really starting to accept my PTSD symptoms. I view them much like the traffic: an unavoidable inconvenience that I have to accept every now and then.
I used to dearly miss being mentally healthy, but thankfully I haven’t had useless thoughts like that in a long time.
In the last year I don’t think I’ve had more than three difficult episodes of PTSD symptoms. It’s possible that I’m finding this easier to accept now that I’m not getting constantly harassed by symptoms. Whatever the case, I’m just glad that I seem to have accepted my new reality. Wishful thinking will do nothing but make me miserable.
Consent is like a castle.
In the castle, everyone is having enjoyable sexytimes.
However, the castle is surrounded by a moat.
And the moat is on fire.
The moat is embarrassment and awkwardness.
You have to cross the moat of awkwardness (by asking consent) to get into the fun castle where all the fun sexytimes are happening.
Suck it up and cross the moat.
(Adapted from Peter Strom’s metaphor for awkwardness and swing dancing)
Let’s take a break from my usual topic of sexual assault to discuss something else that affects my life quite a bit: domestic abuse. Long story short, I witnessed verbal abuse, and occasionally physical abuse, directed at my mom until she left my dad when I was 17. I heard that my dad’s dad was verbally abusive toward my grandma, and rumor has it that my grandpa’s parents were also in an abusive relationship. I even see the signs in my uncles. So I guess you could say this runs in the family.
But I’m going to break the chain. Continue reading The Family Tradition of Domestic Abuse Ends Here
Time for a brief life update. As I’ve mentioned previously, the second half of this year my subthreshold PTSD hasn’t been giving me a hard time. In addition, the “Me too” movement doesn’t seem to be negatively affecting my mental health much and nothing has really changed since I “came out” as a survivor on Facebook — which is a good thing. I wanted to just acknowledge it and move on. Continue reading “That’s Just My Life”