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no way out,
just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it.
My last two writings have been full of my anger, depression, and anxiety. They have been full of pain. Because I am in pain.
I haven't been sleeping. I've been having nightmares.
I have had a rough week. And I need to write a little about it.
My session before this last one, Dr K and I decided to work on the things that cause me anxiety. I have made a list of the things and situations that cause me anxiety, and ranked them according to how much anxiety I feel from each one. We started with something low on my anxiety list--talking to new people. So, I did that for a couple of weeks. All women.
This past week, Dr K wanted me to try talking to men. Men I don't know. I told her I would try. I would try to be brave. But it's very hard for me, gives me horrible anxiety. The way I think and believe is that men only want one thing. That if I start talking to a man, he is going to think I want more from him then just a conversation.
So, after my session this past week, I was getting stuff set up for the art show, which was on Wednesday. I was at the elevator, and it opened, and I was going to get in, but it was too packed. One of the other vets from the show was in the elevator, so I told him bye and that I would see him the next day. There was this guy standing between us, and he said, oh where am I going to see you. I kind of just told him about the show, and tried to ignore anything else about him. The elevator closed, and I felt ok about it, and like maybe I would be able to do the homework.
So, the next morning, I had a chance to help one of the recreation therapists hand out flyers in the lobby for the art show. I gave a whole bunch to men as they came into the hospital. I felt ok about it. It was more fun than anything else.
So, then, after the show started, the other vet who had been in the elevator told me that, after the door closed, the guy who I told about the show said, "I wonder if she's going to be nude."
It's really got me triggered. And angry. I've had a couple of nightmares about that bastard from the Navy. And I feel like no matter how hard I work at this, I'm not really going to ever get better.
The other vet said he wanted to pound the guy, and I guess everyone else in the elevator gave that guy dirty looks. And I keep trying to tell myself that this other vet is a guy, and if that's his reaction, then maybe all men aren't like that guy that said that, or like what I think about men. But now I'm just back to this place of total anxiety at the thought of going up to some man and talking to him. And I'm having a really hard time believing that all men aren't like what I think they are, regardless of what that other vet from the show said about wanting to pound the other guy.
So, that's pretty much why I'm feeling the way I am, and why I'm struggling right now.
And I hate that my thinking is like that. I hate that I have to even work on this. I hate that I need to do this to help heal myself.
I hate that I struggle. I hate that I can't just be normal.
I hate myself. I feel like a freak. I feel defective. I feel like I should be able to handle all of this so much better than I am handling it.
It all feels so much like futility, like I'm trapped inside.
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