had a bit of an epiphany yesterday. ay. in amongst all the shit thats going on, i get to have a fucking epiphany. typical. & not just your average ray of sunshine hitting you with warmth & radiating light all over the place kind of epiphany … fuck no. it had to be a ‘me-morbid’ fucking epiphany.
any.ways … here ’tis:
i been dealing with this whole ‘i was sexually assaulted’ bullshit, most of my life … nothing new there … but when i discovered it was a ‘thing’, i was about 17.
during that time, the ‘trend’ was to ‘talk about it’. counselling was just becoming a ‘thing’, as was the 0800 ‘dial-a-helpful-person-but-not-fucking-really’. my first point of contact, in a fit of despair, was one of those unhelpful fuckers, who suggested i get ‘help’ & that was it.
as i entered the 90s, counselling became more of a thing. every cunt was getting ‘trauma’ counselling, mainly cos every cunt had been assaulted as a child. left right & centre we was coming outta the woodwork, trying to make sense of the immense rage & sadness we all felt. as well as one on one counselling, the ‘help-groups’ became a thing. from what i can gather, AA was a hit. however, transferring that into a ‘i was sexually assaulted’ group was not one of the better judgment calls of that era. i landed in one of these groups & was sooooo fucking traumatised by it, it put me off going to another one, ever again. ps: just as well!
note: pts(d) wasn’t a thing or a diagnosis. it was what veterans came home with. not those who were raped as children. we were just unfortunate.
ps: in the early 90s, depression also wasnt a thing-thing either. neither was medication. js.
roll on mid 90s heading into the latter, & that changed drastically. all of a sudden, every cunt was being diagnosed with depression & medicated accordingly.
counselling was advised, but medication was preferred. a combo was, well, was ‘fortunate’. & i note, depression was severely, severely misunderstood.
also note: sexual assault wasnt really a phrase. the prefix ‘sexual’ was attached onto ‘abuse’, but said in more of a hush hush tone.
in this era, we were dealing with addictions, not specifically trauma. we were advised that ‘trauma’ would be resolved or fixed, when our addictions were dealt with. & counselling was morbid as fuck. it was hashing and rehashing said trauma in the hopes we would get over it whilst making peace with the addictions.
hmmmmm. that didn’t work for me.
in fact, it made it worse.
the thousandths weren’t that much different but added to ‘diagnosis & medication’, were self motivational tools, yoga & suitable ‘retreats’, if you could afford them. we were all about fixing the damaged goods. rising out of victimhood & reclaiming our abused vaginas & making peace with our inner child. *insert eyeball roll*
moving into the present era & we be all medicated AF. we got the #metoo movement housing our collective voices & we’re meditating the social anxieties away. well trying anyways. pts(d) is a mother-fucking thing. women are hell’ah pissed off & not interested in conforming. WOC are roaring loud AF. to be heard in all arenas. especially their own.
in all of that progressive shit … i realised …
there is no fixing this shit.
there is no ‘moving forward’.
there is no ‘me too’ to ‘overcoming fear & anxiety’.
while that all sounds a bit dismissive, derogatory, defeatist & pessimistic …
here’s what i mean:
i’ve literally spent a lifetime trying to fix something that isn’t broken. i didn’t break when i was sexually assaulted. i was just sexually assaulted. repeatedly. its not the assault that breaks me / us, IMO. its the trying to ‘fix’ it.
its making others feel alright with the uncomfortable-ness of it all.
dont make sense?
nightmares are nightmares. they’re my version of figuring out my insides. they’re hell’ah fucking frightening when they’re happening, but i wake up eventually. what has fucked me, is the insinuation that there is something WRONG with this process. that it needs to be fixed. that i need to be fixed. & i’ve done most of that to myself.
dam straight, it’d be nice to just manage the shit (aka flashbacks), but i wasnt taught how to do that. i was taught to aim for eradication of said flashbacks.
that is fucking impossible.
its a memory. its a memory that assaults my daily life. ‘scuse the pun. but it reminds me that certain people are shit & should not, under any circumstances, be trusted again.
my dismissing it as a broken thing that needs to be fixed, means i’m dismissing the innate reaction to expel my life of all fucked in the head people.
but instead of doing that immediately, i’ve roamed around second guessing myself.
this is also true for FEAR.
fear is an inbuilt response. even the ‘experts’ concur. pfft.
but lets deny it? bury it? make motherfucking peace with it?
is that even possible?
tell you what is possible; is spending a shitload of time & money on trying to calm the fucking farm.
so it occurs to me, that if i let fear ride itself out .. if i listen to it, maybe it might be able to teach my ass something. something actually useful & productive.
really, i cant ‘fix’ what’s happened to me physically, & i can’t fix being afraid or anxious.
& why would i, when those latter fuckers saved my life.
they are part of me. trying to overcome them or fix them is like saying there was something wrong with my response, or like saying what happened to me physically & emotionally & spiritually, was of my doing & needs to be corrected.
instead of owning it or placing it where it belongs, we’ve been told to invest our energies into changing it, fixing the patterns or damage, remedying the whole fucking thing. we’re taught to box it & get over it, one way or another.
i’m not a victim.
& i’m not to blame.
so why label it & medicate it when really, there is no ‘resolving’ pts(d) as such. fear is a warning. fear taught me how to save my own life.
i’ll never be ‘the same’, because there was no ‘before’. & as fucked as it is, thats alright.
i’m thinking i just need to honour the fuck out of what i experienced & what i survived.
cos there’s a shitload of people that don’t survive that shit.
anyway. thats it.