[therapy] blah
Sep. 8th, 2020 10:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sorcyressTrigger Warning for rape, emotional abuse, mostly mentioned with dark humour and obliquely but some more direct
Although speaking of stuff that is more on the kinda private side, I just got hit with a kSatyr-trigger out of fucking nowhere, and that's just everybody's fucking favourite.
And I just...had the impossibly sad thought that went something along the lines of "ah yes of course, because we're right near the anniversary of when I tried to break up with him (but failed) and that means we've entered in trigger season and will remain here until February" and just like...yeah.
Early September is probably the earliest I've ever noticed or acknowledged the "why am I getting increasingly mentally fukt throughout November, can't just be the lack of light and increasing cold gotta remember that this is also ~rapiversary time~". Like, if my brain is going to be Weird(tm) about it from fucking now, I don't know what I'll do. It's been thirteen long damn years, okay? (almost, come December, anyways).
((Probably I am fine and I will be absolutely fine in a day or two, probably I am just salty that I've entered the Hell Zone but can't actually just turn off because job has started again and I love my dream job and I do value the fact that I get so many days off, but the exchange is that there is really no other option or flexibility about the days on.))
((And maybe a little too is that I spent therapy talking about my ~feelings~ which I hate. I don't like crying in front of Jenn, not because I'm embarrassed or shamed or anything, but because I have _never_ been able to maintain conversation at the same time I'm crying and I'm supposed to use that hour to conversate.))
Anyways, that's apparently where I'm at. Raise a glass in December for thirteen long years. Another half-decade until I reach the age he was, and yeah, I know how that sounds.
Be good to the ones you love. We are all fragile this year.
~Sor
MOOP!
(PostScript, for those who may be new: In 2007 (the year I was 17/18), I dated a man eighteen years my senior. Perhaps predictably, it did not go well. You can find more information in the very punny "therapy" tags (therapyfilter and therapyblatant being the most common)
Edited to Add: I just spent the last hour doing just that, and look, if you like the way I write and can handle some depressing shit, I think the therapyblatant tag has some of my consistently sharpest writing that I've ever done. This is a fucking horrible thing that happened to me but damn do the scars look amazing.
And as I lamented at one point, how much other writing could I have accomplished if I didn't have to spend literal thousands of words on this?
Although speaking of stuff that is more on the kinda private side, I just got hit with a kSatyr-trigger out of fucking nowhere, and that's just everybody's fucking favourite.
And I just...had the impossibly sad thought that went something along the lines of "ah yes of course, because we're right near the anniversary of when I tried to break up with him (but failed) and that means we've entered in trigger season and will remain here until February" and just like...yeah.
Early September is probably the earliest I've ever noticed or acknowledged the "why am I getting increasingly mentally fukt throughout November, can't just be the lack of light and increasing cold gotta remember that this is also ~rapiversary time~". Like, if my brain is going to be Weird(tm) about it from fucking now, I don't know what I'll do. It's been thirteen long damn years, okay? (almost, come December, anyways).
((Probably I am fine and I will be absolutely fine in a day or two, probably I am just salty that I've entered the Hell Zone but can't actually just turn off because job has started again and I love my dream job and I do value the fact that I get so many days off, but the exchange is that there is really no other option or flexibility about the days on.))
((And maybe a little too is that I spent therapy talking about my ~feelings~ which I hate. I don't like crying in front of Jenn, not because I'm embarrassed or shamed or anything, but because I have _never_ been able to maintain conversation at the same time I'm crying and I'm supposed to use that hour to conversate.))
Anyways, that's apparently where I'm at. Raise a glass in December for thirteen long years. Another half-decade until I reach the age he was, and yeah, I know how that sounds.
Be good to the ones you love. We are all fragile this year.
~Sor
MOOP!
(PostScript, for those who may be new: In 2007 (the year I was 17/18), I dated a man eighteen years my senior. Perhaps predictably, it did not go well. You can find more information in the very punny "therapy" tags (therapyfilter and therapyblatant being the most common)
Edited to Add: I just spent the last hour doing just that, and look, if you like the way I write and can handle some depressing shit, I think the therapyblatant tag has some of my consistently sharpest writing that I've ever done. This is a fucking horrible thing that happened to me but damn do the scars look amazing.
And as I lamented at one point, how much other writing could I have accomplished if I didn't have to spend literal thousands of words on this?
no subject
on 2020-09-14 10:37 am (UTC)Going into November trigger season is the worst. I'm grateful for friends with whom I can keep the fires lit.
no subject
on 2020-09-25 02:30 am (UTC)I hate hate _hate_ how often talking about my abuse history means I receive response of (is it cliche yet?) "me too". What the fuck, world, how the fuck did you get this broken as to cause this much bad to this many people?
But at the same time, sometimes it is nice not to be alone. Not that I would ever wish the common experience on someone, but glad to find those who can share in the pain.