Years of therapy down the drain…

I wake up crying almost every day.  Even in my worst of times in the past I hadn’t experienced that before. Half of me is sad that I have to face another day of this. The other half is guilt for feeling that way. I know that going forward is not negotiable.

Everywhere I look there are lists of things that I shouldn’t feel. I’m not supposed to feel like it’s my fault. I’m not supposed to feel like I’m disgusting. It’s not supposed to be my shame. I’m supposed to believe that people will not look at me differently, but that’s not true. Not in my experience. If all of these things are true, why am I the one who has paid the price?

Constant memories repeat like a mental tick. I don’t know what can change that other than being able to talk about it, but it’s a lot more than most of my friends can handle. Thankfully!

I’m having a hard time accepting the fact that I probably will not get the help I need due to finances. I didn’t have to pay for this, but I have to be able to pay to move forward. I am never going to be able to afford therapy, nor can I leave the house anymore due to physical problems. I spent years in therapy before becoming disabled. I spent years talking about surface issues and work stress because I couldn’t say the word rape. I couldn’t even type it. Many more things I can’t type, but at least I got that far. I hope that disabled women will have access to get help in the future. I missed my chance.

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