I just had a freak out. Triggered simply by laying in bed and RS putting his arm around me like we do every night. I just felt like I was going to be forced into something I didn’t want to do. I know that’s not true, RS would never ever do that and I am safe with him but I just freaked the **** out. My mind went crazy and my thoughts raced and jumped from how I ****ed up my life to how I’m ****ing up my kid’s life to how my first husband may or may not have done something to me.

I tried to do a grounding exercise but my mind went totally blank and I couldn’t remember the five senses one. There’s nothing to see in my room anyway except clutter that also makes me anxious. I need to put up some art or something. I need to arm myself with easily accessible sensory items.

I’m going to have to talk about this sooner or later. I just can’t put it into words, I can’t. And with telesessions with my therapist I can’t write either, she doesn’t give her email to clients. I can text in emergencies but obviously I can’t have a whole written conversation over text.

It seems impossible to ever say it out loud, to admit that maybe it’s what people have been labeling it as. But something is freaking me out. I can’t even look at baby pictures of my son for gods sake.

Well I’m focusing right now on looking at the two houses tomorrow. I’m hoping they are as nice as they seem in pictures. The first one we looked at in august was ****** as hell, but they purposely didn’t put more than four pictures of the interior because they knew it was ******.