As I climbed into bed tonight I was convinced sleep would come quickly and easily. My husband came up a few minutes later and crawled into bed. We held hands silently and then kissed each other good night. It was a peaceful end to a relaxing evening.
I closed my eyes and allowed my mind to drift away into sleep. Within a matter of minutes my mind became filled with a ton of thoughts about different things. Some were ok and swiftly removed, but others just got louder and more forceful. I decided to switch position and distract myself in doing so in the vain hope that this would silence my head.
Almost two hours after coming to bed I am wide awake listening to my husband breathing peacefully, sound asleep. I envy his ability to shut his eyes and to fall asleep within just a few minutes.
I gave up my attempt at trying to sleep and opted to read the daily mail app! I find it hilarious at times and specifically reading comments of other readers. It can make for some entertaining reading and it’s not a paper i take seriously. I have a habit of correcting grammatical and spelling errors as well as thinking that sentences could be reworded to read more easily.
But I got bored and my mind was not playing ball tonight. So I gave up with that idea.
I then toiled with the idea of writing another post. I’ve written a fair bit in the past week or so, more than I have done in many months.
It feels like the best place to let go of some of my thoughts, but more specifically I think it’s an indication that I am struggling.
I have come to believe that there is a certain pattern to the sliding of my mental stability. It always seems to be that something triggers me. This is then followed by weeks of broken sleep but not sufficient to be affecting my general mental state. However, it soon unravels and becomes the case that I can’t sleep and if I manage to win that fight I have broken sleep. As the lack of sleep builds up over several days my ability to manage my agoraphobia goes out the window and my general coping mechanisms begin to get tested. This is also accompanied by the inability to focus on things and random thoughts which build up and become insistent and merciless in their demands to be acknowledged.
I have experienced a heightened need to take co-codamol which I have not given into yet although I did cave a bit with taking subutex on Friday. Saturday and Sunday I opted to take some quetiapine because I was exhausted and needed to shut my head up. However having not taken any quetiapine for 18months I was left with a hungover feeling on both sunday and Monday. I hate the foggy feeling it leaves me with and so I know its not a good move.
I am tired but my head refuses to shut the fuck up. The thoughts when I have insomnia very rarely alter no matter how long the bout lasts for or whether its a been awhile since i couldn’t sleep. Occasionally something new is thrown into the mix just to keep it interesting but generally speaking it all revolves around simiar issues.
Sex is one issue that arises without fail. Not in a good way either. It tends to surround issues I have with it, specifically events which occurred when I was younger and how they impact on me now as an adult. They are painful memories and I see them replaying like a dvd, a mix of different times from when I was a child. I am viewing it as an observer mostly, but sometimes I relive it. The times I relive it are the hardest and tend to make me open my eyes and i refuse to close them again because of the fear of what i will see if i do.
Sometimes the thoughts surround how my consented sexual experiences have played out. The people I’ve met over the years and what I did. Some of the memories during my teens are quite blurry because i was under the influence of drugs (illegal) and alcohol. I did things which I feel deeply ashamed of and have huge self-loathing about them. I have hinted in the past to having done things but I’ve not talked about them. I’m too ashamed to dicuss them.
The combination of all these thoughts eventually lead to an increase of self-hatred and anger. I get this desire to punish myself, most often through cutting. 18 months ago I could control this for awhile with using co-codamol, but instead I have the cravings for the pills as well as the urges to self-harm.
For the past 8/9 months I have fought hard to control any suicidal ideation no matter how strong it might be and got to the point where they stopped.
In the past few weeks, as my mood has dropped fleeting thoughts have crept back in at night. I try my hardest to push them to oneside and ignore them. So far this is working and I will keep on pushing them away.
But the thoughts of self-harm are grim and very strong. I have vivid images of what I want to do.
Over the course of my last few counselling sessions we have talked about sex in a fair amount of detail. Its not something i find easy talking about in therapy as its so clinical and its not at all like talking to your friends. I also find it embarrassing having this part of my life under a microscope but i have many issues around sex so it’s important that its talked about.
One thing that I haven’t been able to talk about yet and which Ive only mentioned fleetingly is how i feel about my body. These thoughts surrounding my body and my urges to cut are marrying up at the moment..
Tonight I have had very strong and vivid urges to cut at my breasts. I HATE THEM. I blame their existence for some of the sexual abuse I endured. If i hadn’t developed them then my head says that maybe some of the abuse wouldn’t have ever happened.
I want to slash at them and mutilate them. I want them to disappear. I can’t stand having them.
Ever since they started to appear it has felt like I have stopped being worth anything other than an object to be gawped at. When I was younger I was thin with boobs. Having now had three children size has changed and my hatred of them has grown. I hide my body beneath baggy t-shirts and hoodies because I don’t want to be noticed.
As a teenager I was perhaps naiive to the affect I had on men, but I was told that I was ‘jail bait’. I didn’t fully understand what this meant at the time, but the comment itself was made by a man who was eleven years older than me. I was 14. Much later when I realised what had been meant I was horrified. All my life I have just been seen as this thing to use and abuse for the sexual gratification of others.
Lying awake night after night with these thoughts racing around I feel dirty and angry. I feel despair and sorrow.
My sexual issues don’t just lie with the past and the thoughts that I have, but have also translated into how I view sex and myself. My experience of being a sexual consenting adult is tainted by the past and I guess if I’m being honest I rarely allow myself to let go and enjoy it fully. I’m not referring to orgasms, I am referring to all aspects of it.
Not once since the very first time I was abused to the present day have I had any sexual contact where I haven’t heard my mothers voice telling me how dirty it is, that it’s evil and disgusting. I feel ashamed of any sexual desires and fantasies i have and if anything does tske place i always feel ashamed and dirty.
I try so hard to shut all these thoughts and images out of my head but they continue to in their persistence to be seen and heard.
The worst image i have at the moment is of a wooden childs chair with a wicker seat. I was tied to it and sexually assaulted…the things she did are too painful and humiliating to talk about. But this is the image that replays itself over and over again. But i am not always a child, sometimes i am older and it’s not always the same person. Sometimes there are people watching what’s happening and I am begging for someone to help me. This has been especially so since i opened up to my counsellor and talked about telling my parents about one of my abusers and them not believing me.
I know that no one ever watched and i also know that it was only one person who used that chair. It’s just horrible that these thoughts are in my head and that i am left fearing falling to sleep.
The things I’ve mentioned are only some of the many thoughts racing around and these are the ones which are not so bad.
I am now going to kick my husband in an attempt to stop his snoring and hope that i might be able to drift off having let some of these thoughts out.