My Mind Is Racing And My Fingers Can’t Type Fast Enough To Keep up

Literally, the title of this blog is exactly what’s going on. Today at therapy the only way I could describe/ answer the question “how are you” was with the one worded answer of “crummy”. I have no other way to describe the tornado of thoughts and emotions that happen in my head throughout the days and weeks. I had an ECT treatment yesterday, the doctor asked how I was too, I told him I was struggling, and he asked if I wanted him to “up the intensity of the treatment”. I told him no because he was also telling me that it would make me more tired and forgetful for a few days, and I just can’t have that right now. SO for now we left the treatment where it was. It helped some, but this depression is getting worse. My psychiatrist is going to try a couple of small changes in my meds and see where that takes us, but I’m not the most optimistic about it. Truthfully, I’m not optimistic about anything in life right now………thus the depression.

I am so lucky to have the people at church that I have. I have specifically made friends with one couple, Michelle and Patrick. They’re my parents age, but they have given so much to me spiritually. The whole Adult Sunday school class has, but these 2, they have shown specific interest in me and my life and it means a lot to know I will be going into class and they will be there and they will mean it when they ask how I am, how my week was, and what has God been doing in my life? I feel comfortable with them. Talking with them, sharing with them. I truly believe God put them in my life for a reason, and right now that reason looks to be to give me something to look forward to each week and to give a fresh start to the week each week. I am truly grateful and blessed.

The self injury thoughts have been coming back……slowly but surely, stronger at some times than others. I say “coming back”, truly they never went away. I have had at least one thought of SI every day since the last time I engaged in it, but this, now? This is more it’s tied to my emotions, and my thoughts are more invasive and it’s getting harder to not engage in the behavior because honestly? I know it makes me feel better…..I know it works. At least for the short term/ in the moment. I know too, that it causes a lot of problems for me later. It leads to lying, betrayal, and feeling even worse than I already do. BUT like I said, it works in the moment to make the thoughts stop, to get the frustration out, to release the anger and to remind myself I am real, I am still here, that I have more control than my mind is leading me to believe. I just want it all to stop.

These are some of the thoughts going on in my head:
1. I’m worthless and no one, including myself, even know me.
2. People just pretend to like me while I’m around, if they really wanted to be my friend or were truly interested in me, they have my phone number or email at least and they could send me a message or call.
3. I’m ugly
4. I won’t ever succeed or meet my dreams– hell, I don’t even know what dreams I have.
5. The so called “dreams” I can think of, I’m not worthy of anyway.
6. I’m stupid
7. I’m unqualified– for everything I would ever want to do
8. I might as well be dead, because the way I’m feeling isn’t worth it either
9. I know my family would miss me, but I know with death, people manage to move on.
10. There is no hope in life
11. I’m not good enough
12. I just want people to like me……but how can they? I don’t even like me?

As you can see the list goes on…….I could keep going but no one wants to read a bunch of crap thoughts someone is having. I don’t even want to read it. I can give you reasons as to why each one of those thoughts is false, but the problem is I don’t believe it. I don’t believe in myself, and I don’t believe I ever can or will. I believe the world around me. I believe the words of others behind my back or the looks I get from people at times. I believe the way I am treated is a direct result of who I am. Why? Because people treat people the way they do based on what I know of them. People must not like me/ who I am because if they did I swear they’d treat me better. Now, there are people who treat me well. I can say I have a few friends. Like my friend Johanna. She’s someone who I don’t know what I would do without. She makes me laugh, let’s me bitch to her, and we both just vent whatever is going on. But I don’t have friends really around my age. I don’t have a boyfriend, and I don’t have a social life really outside of my family. I can say, I try my best to live a Christian life and treat others kindly no matter what because I don’t know what’s going on inside their heads, I don’t know what they hold in their pasts, and I will never know if I treat them poorly because that is no way to start a friendship. I just don’t understand. I don’t understand how so many people can say nice things about me, say I hold all these traits for good, but then just walk away and never contact me again. I don’t know what it is. Actually I do…….it’s ME…..they simply don’t like me.

I’ve wanted to cry the past week multiple times, but it was that feeling of I want to cry but I just can’t. Like my eyes just won’t let me cry right now. I don’t even know why I wanted to cry……other than the time I smashed my hand in seat of the car as it was sliding forward…..that was a legit reason to cry lol…..but seriously, I don’t know what’s going on. I’ve said it multiple times to my therapist, it’s as if the words haven’t been invented yet.

That’s all the words I’ve got for now…….talk to you all later.


When The World Around You Keeps Moving, But You Feel Like You’re Standing Still

So much has been happening since I wrote last time. My grandpa has been put into a nursing home as a permanent thing, and it’s affecting everyone in the family. My grandpa has dementia, we don’t even know if he knows that we are there to visit him every day or not. We do know though that he wouldn’t want to be the way he is right now. His death is inevitable, and it’s not that I’m wishing him dead, but I can say I have accepted that he will die, and that I’m ok with that. I’m going to miss him tremendously, I’m not saying that I won’t be affected by his death, what I’m saying is it isn’t him anymore. He is no longer my grandpa that I have known all my life, no the disease has taken over his mind and his life. I just want him to be at peace, not the agitated and angry person the disease is making him now.

I have been having a really hard time watching this disease take over his mind. It’s really effecting my depression and anxiety and I am trying to stay strong, but it’s slowly causing me to fall apart. My dad is noticing, he asked me what was going on yesterday, and I lied and said I was fine. I know he knows somethings wrong. I just don’t want to put more stress on him with everything else that is already going on.

My job is no longer a job I enjoy. I love the organization I work for, don’t get me wrong. It’s the politics of it all and the stress of working for 2 supervisors and 2 departments and splitting my time between the two and having expectations put on me that I just cannot reach up to. I feel like a failure. I feel like I’m not good enough. I feel unqualified, stupid sometimes even. I feel like I’ll never be able to live a non-dependent life on my own. My one supervisor, Patty, she has this way of talking down to me, it makes me feel stupid, like I’m not good enough, like nothing I do will ever be good enough. I sometimes wonder why they haven’t fired me yet because it seems like Patty is always telling me I forgot this or I didn’t do that right or “you need to work on this” and I just can’t ever meet the expectations that she puts on me. I don’t ever hear, “good job” or “I see you worked really hard on this” I only get negative feedback and it’s wearing on me. I tell myself enough negative things, I don’t need it from others too. I already know I’m not good enough. I already know I need to do better, that my best just isn’t good enough. I feel like I just cannot ever win. I love some of my other co-workers, and honestly, they help me get through my days, probably without even knowing they are helping. I want to find another job, but my mind is getting in my way. My head is telling me that no one else would want me because I’m not qualified. I don’t have the skills, I’m not smart enough. I might as well just keep the job I have because it’s better than not having anything at all. Right? I don’t know.

My psychiatrist told me to do 2 things just for myself during the time between our appointments. I know that seems like an easy task. For me though, it’s really hard. I find I am always doing things to give to others or make others happy, not myself. I have a hard time feeling worthy of doing something just for me. I don’t like myself. I don’t believe I deserve good things. It’s hard to explain why that is, because honestly, I can’t even tell you. I just know that I feel I’m not good enough that I’m lucky to have what I already have and to give myself anything else would be greedy, selfish, and rude. I feel there are so many others in the world who need things more than me, I feel like I can offer my time to them and help them more than I can to myself. Anyway, it’s been over a week and  I still haven’t done something for me, I see my Dr. on Wednesday next week and I have to do 2 things before then. I just don’t know what.

A couple weeks ago my dad and I went to Nashville together, I felt conflicting emotions. I was having a good time, but I felt guilty for it. I felt guilty for having fun… messed up is that? I love spending time with my dad, but I felt bad we left mom at home. I felt bad that we spent 4 days without going to see grandpa, and I felt like I should have stayed home and let mom and dad go. I don’t know, my mind is getting in the way of my life and I hate it.

Do any of you ever feel these things? Do you ever think you are not worth it? how do you manage your life with those thoughts and feelings? I am managing, or should I say I’m getting through, but it’s tearing me apart. My life isn’t what I want or need it to be and I want this to change, I just don’t know how to do that.

“I don’t know”……Can’t That Be An Acceptable Answer?

My last post I told you all everything that had happened in the span of a week. Well….things haven’t gotten much better. My friend, the teenager who was pregnant, well, she lost the baby. I think it may be a blessing in disguise in many ways, but it’s still a baby and a life lost and that sucks. I feel bad for her in many ways.

My grandpa is still in the hospital, though he was transferred to a rehab facility to hopefully get him stronger so he could go home…..but it isn’t very hopeful he will ever go home. He just isn’t strong enough and grandma can’t take care of him and his mind just isn’t there. He rarely can even remember our names and he gets so agitated so easily. He’s a handful in the nicest of ways to put it. I miss my grandpa. The joker, the one who would laugh with us and make snide comments. I miss the guy who would tell us stories about his life growing up, and I miss being a kid that would get so excited to get a shiny penny from pa each time we’d go over to his house. I miss knowing he understands just how much I love him, and I miss knowing he believes it. I just miss the way it used to be.

My dad keeps asking me, “what’s wrong?” or “how you doing?” and all I can come up with to say is “I don’t know.” and it’s not a lie. I truly don’t know all the time what is wrong or why I feel the way I do…..or even what I’m feeling at all. It’s hard to describe, it’s hard to tell someone that on the inside you are just falling apart but you know you have to be strong on the outside for everyone else or else you’d for sure screw everything up. What I mean by that is if I were to let down my guard, I’d be crying all the time. I wouldn’t be able to focus, and I wouldn’t be able to work. I sometimes find myself driving and then I arrive at my destination and I have no clue how I got there because I was so much in my head instead of paying attention and being mindful of the car ride. I’m lucky I know, that I haven’t been in an accident. I sometimes find myself sitting at work not sure how I’m doing what I need to be doing or getting things done because my mind is not there. But I’m somehow holding it together because I don’t want this depression to win.

I had tried doing ECT treatments every 3 weeks for a couple of times, but just last week my psychiatrist and I decided now is not the time to be spreading them out and trying that. We had to go back to every 2 weeks again. I feel like a failure. I feel like I will never get to where I want to be, do the things I want to do……which honestly I’m not even sure what those things are, and I’m scared of my mind taking over my life. I feel as if I will never get any further than where I am now and I wonder if it’s even worth the effort of trying if failure is what will happen in the end. I just want to be normal, to not have these thoughts, feelings, and depression all the time. I just want to say I want to be alive and mean it. I want to be proud of me not just others be proud of me.

It’s a new year, and I just want it to be better than the past. I just want to say I matter, and believe it. I just don’t know when I’ll ever get to that point.


When You Wonder Where The End Of The Tunnel Is Exactly…….Isn’t There Supposed To be A Light?

This blog post is going to be a lot about tough things going on right now, if you aren’t up for that, then quit reading right now.

The last few weeks have not been ones where I can see that light at the end of the tunnel….in fact, they have been leading me to feel as if there is no end to this tunnel. Now, I know that’s obviously not true, but it’s how I feel and I’m putting it all out there right now.

I haven’t been doing the best… anything it seems. A couple weeks ago was my cousins wedding. We had to drive 4 hours just to get there. I have always had a great relationship with my cousins on my dads side. We grew up like siblings. I do have to admit though, I didn’t want to go to this wedding. Not at all. I’ll get right to the point as to why I didn’t want to go. I suppose I was in many ways jealous. There, I said it. All my cousins and my sister, they all have either a boyfriend, fiance, or now husband. They all have someone who loves them in a way I never have known, and have come to believe I never will know. I didn’t want to go to the wedding because I knew it would be just another time where that would be thrown in my face. Petty? Perhaps, but like I’ve said before, it’s how I feel and that’s what I write about on here, my feelings. I feel ugly, dirty, because of the abuse from my uncle. I feel as if I can never be loved by any man….that I am not worth it. I can’t even love myself most of the time, how could anyone else love me?

I went to the wedding. My cousin was beautiful. She deserves the best. I know that.

My depression and anxiety have not been the best. This ongoing med change has not been easy and it’s truly having an effect on my daily life. I have however, started a new medication that has honestly decreased my nightmares tremendously and that in itself is a miracle. They aren’t gone, but they have reduced so much.

Work has been hell lately. Things have been happening that shouldn’t be happening, and because of those things people are getting laid off, hours reduced, and job roles are changing. I work for a non-profit organization and lets just say they got too big too fast and didn’t have money to support the programming and keep everything going. That’s the jest of it…..I can’t really go into everything, but I am starting to look for a new job. I just don’t know where I will find a job that can be flexible with me to be able to have every other Friday off so I can have my ECT treatments. I’ve come so far with coming off of disability and gaining insurance through this job and now, now it seems to be falling apart and I feel as if I have no control over any of it. I’m scared, frustrated, anxious, depressed, and my emotions just feel like a tornado inside while I have to be a peaceful spring day on the outside.

The self injury thoughts and impulses have come back full strength over the past few weeks and I can’t really pinpoint why. My doctor knows about it, so does my therapist. However, I didn’t tell my parents until this past weekend and that proved to be a problem. See, I have this deal with my dad especially, that I would talk about what’s going on, and how I’m feeling. That there would be no secrets. Well, Saturday, dad tells me he and mom are going to go to Wisconsin for the weekend and I freaked out. I told him they couldn’t go, I got really angry, I yelled at them and I walked out telling them “if you had any idea what was going on you would know I couldn’t be alone for a whole weekend.” I walked out and didn’t tell them where I was going or anything. I’m sure it scared the shit out of them, and looking back it was really dumb of me. I just went and parked in a parking lot but I just couldn’t be home because of how angry I was. I had no right to be that angry. How would they know what’s going on if I don’t tell them? They couldn’t. Dad texted me they cancelled the trip and that I should come home and tell them what’s going on. I went home and told them all the feelings I have been having lately. How hard it was for me to go to the wedding, how it made me feel. I told them how everything going on at work was really setting off my anxiety and stress to the point I couldn’t handle it, and the self injury thoughts were getting to the point where I didn’t feel safe being by myself for 2 days in a row. I haven’t done anything to myself, I can honestly say that. I just have been having more and more thoughts and frustration and wanting to do it to just release, to relax, to quiet the thoughts and feelings even if it’s only for a few minutes. It’s hard to explain.

I don’t know what else to say really, all I know is I can’t be thankful enough for my parents, my boss Patty, and my friend Johanna, who have all just been there through it all.

So It’s Been A Long Time…….

Yes, I know. It’s been over 2 months since I wrote on here last. It isn’t because I haven’t wanted to. It was mostly because I just couldn’t find the words. The right words. The words that would fully express what was going on in my head and make sense to those of you who actually read this. See, it didn’t even make sense to me, so how was I supposed to translate that into words for others to understand? I just couldn’t. I haven’t forgotten about this site though that is for sure.

Today, I decided I was going to write. Write whatever I could about whatever I could whether it made sense or not. So here we go.

The last couple of months have been a crazy road of ups and downs. Mostly downs on the inside, and ups on the outside. Let me explain. The last couple of months I have felt more depressed than I have in a long long time. All while on the outside smiling and telling people I am in the best place I have ever been and that I am proud of where I am in life. I have been telling those around me that I’m happy, content, and just going with the flow. In some ways those aren’t lies. In other ways they are. They aren’t lies in sense that I have come thousands of miles from where I was just 5 years ago in my recovery journey. Am I happy about that? Absolutely. Am I happier in many ways now than I was before? Definitely. Am I where I want to be in my life? Definitely not. That is where the lie comes in. I cannot say I am in the bad place I used to be in, but I can say I am in a different place. A different kind of bad, a different kind of depression, and a different kind of wishing for something more. Something better. I ache on the inside to be a person who has found love. To be a woman living on her own, taking care of herself, and surrounded by friends. Plural. FriendS. I have a couple of people I call friends. But mostly, the people in my life are what many would define as acquaintances. People who you see at events, occasions, etc, but also people who don’t know the real me. People who don’t bother to call on the weekends just to say hi, or check in and see how things are going. People who have your number in their phone, but never call. People who when I’m around them, we have fun, we laugh, all that, but once the night is over they are the people who don’t initiate ever hanging out again. I am at a place in my life where I feel very lonely. The people I can honestly say are my friends, Johanna and Sally, I love them to death.  I love the friendships I have with these two people. They mean the world to me. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. I just hope they know just how much I appreciate them, their random texts, and their hugs when I see them.

I am in a place in my life where I feel sad. Sad I am not more. Sad I don’t have that special someone. Sad I just don’t see my worth.

The depression is bad lately. Nowhere what it was 5, 6, 7, years ago, but different. I have skills now where I can recognize what is going on. I can help myself. But there are just so many days I wake up and feel disappointed I woke up. I  see other people worse off than I am, and I know how it is to be where they are, and I am soooo grateful to have come as far as I have, I just wish people would realize. Realize that even though I have come so far, made such huge strides, there’s still a road in front of me. It doesn’t mean the sadness goes away. It doesn’t mean I don’t still hurt on the inside. It doesn’t mean I don’t see or believe that I matter.

I love helping everyone else. I love seeing others smile. And yet, I hate it all at the same time. Let me explain. I hate it because I get jealous. I long for someone to notice the hurt inside of me the way I can notice it in others. I long for someone to tell me, it’s ok to not be ok. I long for someone to see I can’t be everything for everyone else, and nothing for me. All while at the same time, I put my energy into everyone else because I don’t see the worth I have. I don’t see myself being worthy of even my own time.

The past couple of months, I’ve been changing meds and it’s not been easy. Starting one med, stopping another, having a reaction emotionally and quickly stopping the new med and starting another new one. It’s been a total shock to my serotonin levels and my emotions have been all over. I’ve isolated. I’ve put all my energy into work, and doing my job, and when I get home I just have nothing left. I’ve been pushing those people I love the most away and  I hate it, but I “have” to in order to keep myself going to the point where I can say I am functioning and I am able to get through the day. I have to because if I wasn’t isolating, I’d be taking on everything of everyone else’s also and I’d breakdown even further. I know. It makes no sense at all. It’s the fucked up type thinking that comes along with the depression, the med changes, and in a way it’s a type of protection. I’m trying to protect myself from things getting worse.

I had an appointment with my psychiatrist, and her boss, who just so happens to be the psychiatrist who does my ECT treatments. We all sat and we talked about what has been going on. We talked about the med changes and how I’ve been feeling….all that stuff. We talked about things going on in my life. Things with my Grandpa, my mom. We talked about what I’ve been going over in therapy. I told them. I told them I’ve been diving into the sexual abuse by my uncle. I told them it’s not been easy, but it’s something I have been keeping inside for so long it was time I had to share it. I had to let it out. Well, he said maybe doing that in therapy and doing this med changes and such all at the same time wasn’t the best idea. They mentioned I stop talking about the abuse for a couple of months in therapy, take a break. They said give my body, my mind a chance to catch up, to adapt to the new meds, and then see if I even feel I need to go back to the subject of the abuse. I agreed. I told my therapist on Saturday I wanted to take a break. She 100% agreed also.

Life isn’t easy, it’s not meant to be. If life was meant to be easy, God wouldn’t have had to die on the cross. If life were meant to be easy, Christ wouldn’t have even existed. We all have tough times. We all have sin. We all need help, love, and companionship. I know I have God, I know I will never truly be alone. I know these things. I, though, also, am a sinner, and I long for earthly things. I long for human relationships, and I long for feeling like I matter to those around me. These are all things I need to work on every day. Things I need to pray about. I love that I can look forward to heaven. I hate. at the same time, how I have no control over when I go. I need to learn and accept many things. I need to.

I’m not sure anyone is reading this…… 

For real, I only know of one person who actually reads this. I don’t get much feedback from anyone on here so it’s hard to tell how many people really are reading my posts. I suppose it doesn’t matter all that much, I just wonder sometimes is all I guess.

The past week and a half has been something else. Let’s just say,  I am really glad for all the supports I had during this time. Friday, May 12th, I finally took the step and went to the YWCA to meet with a counselor there to sign up for their survivors of sexual abuse group. I was terrified. I had been told about this group all the way back in October, but was just now able to make an appointment and go in. My last post was all about this meeting, so I won’t spend a lot of time going over it again. On the way to the meeting though, my boss decided to call me and tell me about a scheduling error I had made for that day. I felt dumb, useless. All I could tell her was I was sorry, I didn’t know how it had happened, and I would fix the schedule for the upcoming Friday’s when I got back to the office of Monday. She responded with a “Well I guess I’ll have to call and find people to come in today,” and all I could think was, “yeah, I guess so, because I’m not there and I can’t fix it from my car.” I feel like she called just to point out I had messed up, and that it caused her to have to take time time to fix it. I felt terrible, and honestly I thought about it all weekend. When Monday came along, I was so worked up, so anxious, I got to work and it wasn’t even 2 hours into my shift when I had to call my dad and tell him I was about to just start crying because I was so worried about what my boss was going to say to me about my mistake when we met in a little while. I just wanted to cry, run away from it all, even the thoughts of quitting my job came to mind. I know, I know, ridiculous, right? Everyone makes mistakes, and we all have to learn to deal with consequences and learn from them. Well, my anxiety and depression told me otherwise.

I didn’t run, I didn’t quit. I did go to the bathroom and cry, and I did stress out most of the day. The stressing out was noticed by a few of my co-workers, to which I just responded that I wasn’t feeling well and it was no big deal. Tuesday came and we had a speaker coming in to do a presentation that evening. I came in late for the day as I would be staying later in the evening. Again, I was stressing out. This time though, I really wasn’t feeling all that well. My cold/allergies were being wacko and I just couldn’t get my anxiety to go away. My boss noticed I wasn’t looking good, my face was red and hot, and I just wasn’t myself. She even told me I wasn’t looking so good.

After the speaker’s series, which no one showed up for, and we had to send the speaker’s away, I went home and just crashed into my bed. I woke up Thursday feeling ok physically, but so emotionally drained and beat that I called in sick. I told my boss I was physically sick. I was having physical symptoms, but I believe a lot of it was because of the level of depression and anxiety I was having. The same thing happened on Thursday too. So I only worked Monday and Tuesday last week, and took Wed/Thurs off (I have Friday off every week anyways).

I went to my psychiatrist on Wednesday, told her I felt terrible for calling in to work when I was only having emotional issues and not physical. She pretty much told me that “mental health” days are and should be treated just the same as “physical health” days. She told me she would write me a letter of necessity to give to my boss if I really thought I’d need it. She’s right. I shouldn’t feel bad for taking 2 days to just care for me, to give myself time to just BE.

Wednesday and Thursday came and went, and here I am at Sunday wanting, and not wanting to go to work tomorrow all at the same time. I know I should, I know I need to, but my brain and my depression is telling me to just stay home, stay in bed, and not do anything.

My psychiatrist raised one of my meds and we will be weening off of another over the next few months or so. So I know things will be changing and hopefully getting better. I just struggle, with my thoughts, with anxieties, and with depression. I just want it all to go away. I get tired of not knowing, not being able to describe, not having a definite answer to the question “What’s wrong?” or “What’s going on?” I know only one person who truly understands when I say the words for how I’m feeling haven’t even been invented yet. She knows who she is.

If anyone else reads this……how do you all get through the dark times? The anxieties? The depression? How do you all gain confidence in yourself? How do you know and believe you are worth it?



“A Journey Of A Thousand Miles Begins With A Single Step” – Lao Tzu

From the parking lot to the building was only a few short steps, but the one step it took to get in through the door was the biggest step I’ve had to take.

Yesterday I took one of the biggest steps I’ve had to take on my journey to recovery and healing. I finally took to heart what my co-worker told me about way back in October about the YWCA and all they have to offer for women survivors of sexual abuse. I have, for the last 6 months, kept his words and encouragement, and advice, in the back of my mind, terrified to call the YWCA and set up an appointment to do an intake and join their therapy/ Support group. I kept telling myself, “I don’t need that. I can do this with just my therapist, and I don’t need to put my full story out there to a bunch of strangers.” or “All it’s going to do is trigger me and make things worse.” Well, a couple of weeks ago I finally got to the point where I said to myself, “Maybe being around others who have experienced the same things and hearing their stories will help me. Maybe it will help me to feel not so alone, so ashamed, guilty, and dirty.” I picked up the phone and set up an intake appointment. Then I put it all out of my mind. Subconsciously hoping it might just all go away.

Yesterday was the day of my appointment. The week leading up to this appointment was full of anxiety, headaches, spacing out, and fear. I’m pretty good at putting on that mask of everything’s alright, and no one ever really truly knows what my mind is telling me, putting me through. There are even times I don’t even know. It’s like the words haven’t even been invented yet to describe the thoughts, the pain, the emotion in my head.

Yesterday came way too slow……but yet so fast. This past week was long, but not long enough either. I dreaded the appointment, scared of being judged, scared of being told my story wasn’t bad enough that I didn’t really need this group and I should just leave. I was scared I wouldn’t be believed, that the person wouldn’t really get it. Scared of, well, scared of how real it was all going to feel as I told the intake person my story, and my fears. I texted my best friend before the meeting, just to make sure she would be available when I was done, so if I needed to talk I would know she was there…….it brought a sense of peace and solace knowing she knew I was going into this meeting scared shit less and that she would be thinking about me and praying for me. I had this sense of not being alone and I can’t thank her more for that.

I told my dad about this meeting weeks ago, but I’ve been terrified to tell my mom, as I was scared it would upset her. I did finally tell her though right before I went to the meeting, she took it well, and I’m glad I told her about it.

I drove to the YWCA office. I got there early (go figure right? I’m early for everything) I sat in the parking lot with the music on in my car. I knew the music was playing but I didn’t hear it all at the same time. I couldn’t. I was so caught up in thoughts and fears and just didn’t know what I was doing. Should I stay? Should  I just go? I looked at the clock and it seemed as if the time wasn’t changing. I felt frozen in this moment, stuck in the fear, and yet feeling this overwhelming need to get out of the car and just do it. Just walk up to the building and go in those double glass doors. I sat there and I said a prayer. I said, “God, I don’t know why you put Mike in my life to tell me about this place way back in October, I don’t know why you finally put it on my heart to do this, and I definitely do not know why you have brought me to such an unknown and scary place. I do know though, that You are Great and will be with me the whole time. I know You won’t bring me to anything You can’t help me through, and I also know this sucks really bad. I am terrified God, just give me strength.” After I was done praying I got out of the car, stood next to it for what seemed like minutes when really it was probably just a few seconds, and I took those steps to the doors at the front of the building. The sun was shining down on my face and I could feel it’s warmth as I stood there, trying to lift my arm that felt like a thousand pounds, to open the door. I did it. I opened the door and I walked in. I stared at the receptionist and knew she was saying something to me, but I couldn’t hear her. I responded with a shaky “what?” and she asked me to sign in and have a seat, that she would let the counselor know I was there.

I took a seat on the fake leather chair and just looked around and took in my surroundings. I noticed my leg was shaking and my palms were getting a bit sweaty. I sat for what seemed like forever, though it was really only 5 minutes, and then Erin, the counselor came out to get me. She welcomed me, shook my hand, and told me it was nice to meet me. All I could think was “don’t say that too fast, you don’t even know me yet, you may not think it’s so nice after we get done talking.” I have a lot of doubts about myself. I have a hard time finding myself worthy of being liked by anyone.

We went to a small conference like room with two chairs and a small table and we started talking about the YWCA and generally what it is for, who it is for, and what the group I was looking to join was all about. Erin talked to me like she had known me for years, she listened to me as if what I had to say truly mattered to her. It’s not something I’m all that used to. I mean, my family and friends and my therapist they listen, and they care, what I mean is this person was completely new to me, and yet she still had such an interest in me, my story, and my experiences. I told her a lot about things that had happened, but not everything. I even said at one point, “I don’t want to answer that question yet, I don’t really know you well enough to go that deep.” and she accepted that answer as valid and said ok, that she completely understood that.

She understood that. Wow, she understood that I wasn’t quite ready, that I had limits. This was a realm of unfamiliarity for me. I felt this meeting to be completely  non-judgmental and safe. We talked for close to 2.5 hours about everything and going over intake questions and paperwork and all that. I left feeling exhausted, worn out, and just drained. The first group is on May 30th. I’m terrified, nervous, but looking forward to it at the same time.

Taking this step really wasn’t all that big, but the impact of it already has been huge and it can and might leave a huge impact on my process of healing from the impact of the sexual abuse of my uncle. I imagine this is a lot like sky diving. You jump out of a plane, free falling, you see the possibility of the bottom, and you have confidence your parachute will open and the landing will be standard/ easy, but there’s that standing fear of what if my parachute doesn’t open? What if when I land I get hurt? But you still take the jump, because you know it’s going to take you on a path you’ve never been on before, and it could teach you so much about life and yourself.