I am success
personified, I am strong, independent and intelligent. I am caring,
friendly and kind. I stand up for myself, my values and my beliefs. I studied
at university level at high school, have a diploma in law and am about to
complete a degree in psychology. I'm not rich, but I manage my money well
enough to never go without the things I need. Despite sexual abuse, being
raised by a solo mother (who is an alcoholic), growing up in 'poverty' and
attending a school where the success rate is minimal, I am successful. But this
is just the me you see.
On the inside there are
two. There is me and there is She. I cannot pinpoint the moment She arrived, by
I felt it, I felt her, as she slithered on inside. She came without a bang. There
was no welcome, no hello not even an introduction. I didn’t even realise she
was there. She had made herself at home. She began to rifle through the filing.
Lingering on details never before noticed. Like a detective or a spy. She made
her first appearance after an unfortunate doctor’s appointment.
My partner and I, only
young and only newly together, were like others eager for a physical
relationship. I thought it was normal, but he demanded that I shouldn’t be in
pain. The sting was not normal, and the burn afterwards wasn’t either. So I
mustered up my courage, that strong independant me, and made beeline for the
doctor to sort this thing out. Just a cream or a pill, surely thats all. But
for me, that wasn’t it. Not at all. Googling my symptoms, my doctor exclaimed “hm
yes I thought that might just be the case.” 5 pages of print outs later, I was
confused, and not so positive it would all be all right.
I think it must have
been here, she had found me right then. It was when they said that word, that
life sentence, that curse. That is when that nasty other first put her 2 cents
in. ‘Vulvodynia is untreatable, you are never going to be able to do that
again.’ I got angry. No that’s Not It! I stormed off and insisted another
doctor examine me. Again that nasty word. Yes it fit. It explained so much, but
there was so much of it I didn’t want to deal with. It was a life sentence, a
devastation to me, but the exact thing the other me was looking for. She
bounded out of were ever she had been hiding. With no hello, no introduction,
or even how’s your day, she began straight away with the business of her day.
she seemed excited by it. ecstatic. “Ha you’re broken” she laughed at me. “Even
your body hates you” “you will never be able to please your man, and he will
leave.” It hit me hard, and she hit harder. But the first blow is the softest. More
of a gentle warning. My man did still want me, and the strong in me demanded it
was a hurdle we could overcome. She was sceptical. It became her game to see
how often she could make me believe I couldn’t overcome it. Eventually I had
adopted her catch phrase. ‘I’m broken’, the first sign of defeat.
It wasn’t long after
that She was given another golden bullet. I decided to change from a law degree
to a law diploma, meaning I could finish that year. Awesome, I’m graduating! “But
at what?” she demanded “at failing!” I t took a lot to explain to her that this
wasn’t the case. That as a sexual abuse victim I originaly felt that as a
lawyer I could put the men who hurt little girls like I was away, and make the
girls safe. I had realised this wasn’t what law was about, and that I could
never help these children in the way I needed too through law. Instead I felt
psychology would allow me to truely help these children. And that I could use
my bad to make someones good. She called bullshit on this one, and we fought loggerheads
on it for some time. Only taking me dropping my guard for a short while and she
would be in there, singing on my failure. Eventually I saw my diploma for what
it was. It was me dropping out. giving up. but not for laziness, just because
of its incompatibility with my life. I
was neither happy with it, nor unhappy. and while at the time I saw this as
good, I would come to learn it was but another of her tricks.
The Vulvodynia was her
favourite. I tried medication, and she would demand it failed because I was incapable
of being fixed. I started councelling for the sexual abuse, her right beside
me. She started to do doubt it happened. But I knew. She started blaming me.
But it wasn’t, I was a kid. She then decided this was the best time to hide...to
change tactics. The Doctors could scene her now, but couldn’t quite be certain.
They made me do tests, they all showed positive, but with my other issues, She
easily passed herself off as something else. And with her not able to be detected, She was
able to make her actions seem mine.
She started to do
ground work. ‘You have no friends’ her main line was. Slowly she proved this
time and time again. I threw a grad party, and other than family very few
showed up. It was all over by 10... Regular bedtime for me and I’m considered a
nana. I tired Birthday party... and like the thousands before it that too
failed especially. Housewarming... well I got many one person here. The proof was there. Maybe she was right. I
tried making friends. One seemed to be good. Class mate. He even gave me a discount
where he worked. chatted regularly and seemed interested in what I had to say.
But asking for coffee was like pulling teeth “he hates you leave him alone”
sitting next to him in class became a rarity “why the hell would he want to
know you anyways. And eventually it was discovered he was taken “she hates you
and he scared she is right, you are after him.” Then my ‘best friend’ walked
out. I had asked her to visit the areas my father lived during the years of
sexual abuse with me, she refused, claiming I was nasty, selfish and not her friend.
I felt alone. All I had left was my partner.
But that was easily
fixed. She had already sparked insecurities for me. I am not adventurous
enough. I have too many problems. I am broken. and I had her. My partner was
about to go to outward bound for 3 weeks. I was terrified. What if he met a
woman better than me, more adventurous? She guaranteed that he would be gone
within a week of getting back. I was distraught.
This time she was
right.
I knew it as soon as he
stepped of the plane.
He had returned with a
decision to be made. to stay with me or to leave, and go as far away as
possible.
I was devastated. Rejected.
Alone. I felt unwanted, unloved. Unimportant. And She, oh She had a field day
with this one. It was at this point she took the throne. I was fragile before
he left, I was only just holding on. But now she had taken the leading role and
she had charge of me
.
That’s when Her best
friend showed her importance. Some girl. He had meet her on OB. This here was
the Jewel In Her crown. Soon she bombarded me with suggestions that will was
more interested in this Jen. She was the adventure I was lacking. And when will
spent a night uploading photos to jen instead of consoling me She put her boot
in. I was a mess. She was convincing me it was all over. that nothing else
mattered. This was her first victory. She left me crawled in a cold shower, Tears
running over my face, feet covered in blisters, and my nails dug into my arms.
Eventually I fought back. Insisted that I could be fine without will. And he
had promised not to meet up with her I insisted was proof that jen didn’t matter.
She saw differently. This was just a way to shut you up. He still wont stop
talking to her will he?
The next few months
were a battle. he wanted to be friends. I decided that was a good idea.
Desperate to prove to her that he did care. that it wasn’t me he wanted to
leave, that it was simply the pull of travel. This mean nothing to her. to her
it sounded more that I was not a strong enough pull to keep him here so
anything or anyone could come along and take him. as time when by, he decided
that maybe long distance could work. This was a mini win for me, but She was
already mighty powerful. She had already destroyed my self-esteem. I needed
reinforcements. I needed help. I tried to ask, but she stopped me. She called
me selfish, saying that this was not his battle and it was unfair to make him
have to put up with it. She reminded me of what I had already put him through.
the vuvlodynia. and then she showed me again, he doesn’t really care. He asked
for space. something I was not 100% of the meaning. She claimed it was his way of saying leave me alone I don’t
want to see you or hear from you again. I didn’t really want to believe it. But
she showed me. He said don’t be clingy. this meant don’t kiss/hug without
invite first. she reminded me again and again of ever kiss that was followed
with a push. Im sure there were others, but she has hidden them from me. She
shows me again and again where he sits in jonnys room talking and ignoring me.
and the worst she eventually started to put the idea that maybe he was
interested in the new flatmate into my head. She showed how he didn’t want me
to visit for lunch, because even work was better than seeing me. She pointed out
his obvious priorities, and that I was very low on it. I was devastated. It was here I realised she was a problem. She
started taking control of my actions. my body began to respond to her not me.
Especially driving. I would have someone pull out in front of me and instead of
braking like a normal person, I didn’t care. or if someone came out of a side
road and almost into the side of me, I didn’t swerve. I didn’t care. I began
hearing her thoughts. Its just one human life. No one really cares. If you die
you die, It happens to everyone. I was scared. she was beginning to win.
.
I tried to fight back.
I picked up my st johns wart. guzzling a pill down I hoped that would knock her
out for 5 while I figured out what to do next. I rung my doc. made an appointment. But
I was ashamed. How was I going to explain this battle. how I had failed. how
much she ruled the roost. I walked away with a diagnostic of mild depression
and to continue the st johns. They were like shooting kids Nes foam bullets at
an enraged bear. of no effect.
It didn’t help my
relationship. Maybe she is right, maybe he hated me at that moment. he snapped
at me. over nothing. just a simple run to the gym might be faster than trying
to jump start the bike to get their. He left. I left. I sulked. I wanted to die
then. I tired to find help. Jordans. Stephs. No one was home. I came back,
locked myself away. hiding. scared. Knowing that this was the end of the
relationship, the end of the only support I have, and the end of my battle. She
was going to win. I didn’t even get a txt to say sorry. Will and I talked about
this. She was present of course. I am desperate. I need a life line and this is
the only one I have. I convince him to continue together but him move out. he
was originally for it being over completely but I convinvced him. a small win
for me for now, but She is adamant he will be gone soon. he wants out. he hates
you. he cant stand being with you. He doesn’t even want you around for his
sisters birthday. I cry. I cry so much I feel like I'm all out of tears.
It seemed like it was
going well. But she wasn’t going to stay out of this. I needed help. I felt I
had reached out but I hadn’t enough. I wanted to reach out to William. She
wouldn't let me. “Its unfair. look at what you have done to him already. hes
been through enough. no wonder he hates you. He wants space not your problems.
And space was what he wanted. She clarified that for me. She stated it meant He
didn’t want anything to do with me, didn’t want to see me or hear from me. I
was devastated. I needed him. I needed him to know what was going on. That I needed
people. But he didn’t want to know. and It was unfair to say that to him
because then the would never get any space.
I tried to get a job,
something to prove to her that I was successful and could win this, and
something to give William the space needed.. But this plan was not at all fool
proof. The job itself seemed okay, but She insisted I was well out of my depth.
One day I was attacked by a client. The was Her favourite part. She now plays
it like a picture show, cackling like the witch she is. I panicked at work,
requiring medication. This pleased her
to no end. She was thrilled. It was working. She had got me to take the pills. The
first sign that she may be winning the overall battle. Not to mention that she
knew, if she could destroy my career, then her victory would be imminent.
She had also been
having a go with will again. She had pulled apart the last 4 months showing me
the things will did that showed that he hated me. I was distraught. The She
decided she had evidence that the Jen girl was still there and there was
something. The night before Will had been too ‘tired’ after a family birthday
party and cancelled plans (was miscommunication). This was already enough fuel
for her. then she showed me his messages. there was one from the night before.
I threw a tantrum. With that will broke up with me. The worst part is she had
got her message wrong. it wasn’t from him but to him. But that didn’t matter,
She had won this bout. She had finally destroyed will and I.
Now she meets her final
frontier. Me. The Real Me. The strong, indepenant and intelliegent woman. who
is caring, friendly and kind. The woman who stands up for herself, her values
and beliefs. Who had succeeded and can succeed again. A woman who despite it
all, Is and will be successful.
I realized that there needs only one of me. And that only one of us can survive. Either I need to kill her or she will kill me. With this sudden realisation, that strength surged through me just enough for me to call out for help. Picking up the phone I called the Crisis Team. With the full bottle of pills in one hand and tears streaming from my eyes, I finally admitted what She was. And what She wanted. I had severe depression and she wanted to kill me. I wanted to kill myself. The next week was hard.
They took away the st johns, the only think keeping her from winning completely. While this gave the opportunity for people to see i need help, it also gave her an opportunity to give herself one last massive go. She yells at me it will not work. and demands to know why i'm bothering. In a seductive manner she claims ah but we both know the easiest and best way out of all this. Its tempting. at the moment more tempting than anything else in the world. She asks why, why wont i. I say i couldnt hurt those who care about me like that. She asks and who are they again. My mother - "a woman who you call for help and support that then turns it into a contest of who has the worst problems?" My grandmother - "a woman who abandoned you when you needed her the most, when her son raped you?" My Grandfather - "a man who couldnt have cared less about his first grandaughter graduating, and who doesnt believe mental illness exists at all?" My Sister - " the girl who blames you for her failure, because you required extra care after the abuse? who has said she wish i was dead?" My Partner - "you mean your ex who has little time for you, has broken up with you several times and who in 6mths time will be so busy in america he will forget you even exist?" My friends - What ones? the ones who come when they fear you will kill yourself but who never even txt u otherwise? they simply dont want the blood on their hands." And again Why? She demands. Because I want a life. And I want to get better. And I think I can do it. only 2 weeks and the medication will have you silenced. Her final fighting words? We will see about that...
I apologise for the length and possibly confusing manner i wrote this is. This is my battle with depression. something that this weekend is very strong. writing sometimes helps so I thought I would be brave and share it with those out there who may be going through something similar.
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