I am not just what happened to me so long ago. I am back in a down spiral with my depression and sometimes I just have nowhere to go or to express it. Every place has a requirement...Pandy's is about my abuse, My depression forum is about that disease, Experience is a site about the now...and my caregiving meetings focus on dealing with my mother. But I want to express all of me. My therapist is torn between helping me move forward from my past and helping me survive my present. I feel bottled up in loss and longing. I am single. Have been for soooo long that I don't know how to talk to men. It doesn't matter anyway because I usually don't want them to touch me. I don't want to talk about what happened to me and I am so afraid of EVERYTHING. But, still appear to the outside world to be fearless. I cannot just be me. The me that loves the Ocean, the me that cries over the news every morning, AND the me that loves to read poetry out loud in 'character'. It is hard to be, just be with other people when I can never beat back the depression for long. I know it is always waiting around the corner to attack my energy, my attitude and my daily life. Depression is the excuse my father used to do the horrible things he did to me. He was 'fixing' me. So, in a way I owe my abuse to this terrible disease that lives inside my brain. Of course, my father was a self absorbed, lying bastard so who cares what he used as an excuse. I have PTSD from the years I spent locked into a life as my own father's concubine. But I refuse to believe that it built all of me - I am more than his victim. I am more than a survivor. I am me. Broken and flawed. Angry and unsettled. But, damn funny some days - and loving and caring and giving. I am so much more and yet I have nowhere to put that 'more'. So I'm here. Again. Expressing something at least.