[tinyrabbit]

I've never written this out before except a few things I've written down for my T. I think it might help. Other users kindly encouraged me to post on the PTSD board but I think this belongs here. It's going to be long. Not expecting replies. Just need to get it out. I keep thinking I shouldn't as it's not a big deal, it's not that bad. But I think maybe it is a big deal. Maybe I owe it to myself to see that it is.

My dad is from a tough, chaotic background and spent some time in the care system. My mum's mother is, in my opinion, a narcissist. My dad always had a short temper and didn't understand the difference between childish silliness and actual bad behaviour. My older brother says a stranger once intervened just because of the way my dad was shouting at him.

I told my therapist my dad wasn't violent. He says I need to widen my definition of violence, because I also told him about breaking household objects in temper and screaming at me over trivial things eg because I left a tap dripping. You don't criticise my dad. You just don't. You do what you're told. He used to whistle for me to come like a dog and I only just realised that was screwed up. I never liked being around him, never wanted him to hug me.

Things got much worse when my dad lost his job. I don't really remember. I just remember he was angry a lot. My mum took him to the doctor and the doctor didn't get it, he said everyone gets angry sometimes. It took two years to get him to go back to the doctor. He didn't sleep properly and took sleeping pills. I didn't invite friends over as my dad would probably be in his pajamas and would shout at me in front of them. I haven't told my T this but he often walked around with his flies undone.

I thought it was okay because he didn't really hit me, except very occasionally. But, as I said, my T says I need to widen my definition of violence. One day I told him something I thought was trivial and he said "most kids would rather be beaten than [that]". I was astonished.

My brother told me recently that my aunt once told my mum that it was affecting her kids and she had to do something. And my mum got very upset, and did nothing. Sounds about right. Then my brother said: "The person I really felt sorry for was dad." And I thought, what about me, who feels sorry for me? Everyone in my family is conditioned to treat me like I have no feelings. I said: "I had to live with them alone after you went to uni. I'm not trying to make you feel bad." And he just said: "I don't," and I realised it just didn't ever occur to him to worry about me. In my family, I don't exist. I witnessed that conversation with my aunt but I forgot about it. It was easier to think nobody bothered than to think someone said something but then just gave up and didn't bother again.

If I tried to talk to my mum she said "well don't feel like that" or "just let it wash over you". As if a child can just choose not to feel sad and scared. In therapy I have learned that I can be shaking and not even feel it. That it's absurd to think I wasn't scared and I must have dissociated from my feelings.

The first time I dissociated in therapy, my T asked why I was shaking and I came up with reasons. Next session I said: "I didn't know I was shaking, did you realise?" He pointed out how I didn't argue, I just came up with reasons. Even though I didn't know I was shaking.

As a kid I used to bite the skin off my fingertips. I started to cut myself in my teens. I used to punch myself as well. And I very much had a 'freeze' response to what I now see as trauma. I slept a lot and eventually developed hypersomnia which I now believe is somatic. I spent a lot of time imagining another life. I used to research it really thoroughly to keep myself busy, so I would look through the phone book to pick another address and phone number (my dad saw me doing that once, apparently reading the phone book, and said I was a freak) and I used to read school inspection reports so I could imagine going to another school. My T is the only person I have told about this.

I had a penpal who turned out to be an adult posing as a child, judging by the pictures he started sending me and the things he wrote. He sent drawings of what he thought I looked like naked. I told the police. They took a statement but nothing more came of it. Nobody ever asked how I felt. My parents never talked to me about it.

I walked in front of a car once. People thought it was an accident. It wasn't. Aged 15 I took an overdose and my parents went home and left me alone. I overheard my mum on the phone a few days later saying "we didn't even know she was unhappy". Which was total BS. She actually believed it, it's her way of coping. Works for her but not me. I was gagging on the tube when they pumped my stomach and they wouldn't let me put my hand against my throat as they thought I was trying to pull the tube out. I don't know if they damaged my throat physically or if it's psychological but I've had an over-developed gag reflex ever since and can't even keep mouthwash in for more than a few seconds. A nurse refused to bring me a bedpan in time as "we do have other patients you know, ones who didn't put themselves in here". A psychiatrist spent 15 minutes asking me pointless questions and wrote in my medical records that I had no reason to be depressed.

Nobody noticed that I wasn't brushing my teeth properly (have a lot of problems now as a result). Nobody noticed that I hardly went to school. Nobody noticed when I stayed out all night.

I moved into a squat with my drug dealer boyfriend and failed one of my 'A' levels. Then I went back 'home' for a bit. Then I started seeing my ex who I was with for seven years. I pretty much moved in with his family. They were dysfunctional too, I think I couldn't have handled it if they weren't, it would have been too confusing.

I did more exams and got into uni. My ex made me promise that, if he wasn't happy, I would leave. I spent my first night at uni in my room with him while everyone else was making friends, I still don't know how I made any friends. He used to call and ask why he could hear male voices. He was nicely set up as rescuer though, when my mum was meant to pick me up at the end of term, forgot and went to France instead. I was sat there with all my boxes (you had to move out of halls, aka dorms, in the holidays). I had to call my ex to come get me.

I was on Prozac as they thought I was depressed. I always thought there was something wrong with my head but it was my life that needed fixing, my life made me unhappy. I told my doctor I had been r____ in the past and asked for therapy. He said I didn't fit the criteria and should try the student counselling service. I already had. The woman said if I didn't talk she couldn't help me. I said I wasn't coming back. She wrote to my doctor to say I just didn't turn up to my next appointment. I felt so betrayed. I thought the thing I said was a lie. But recently I realised it was much closer to the truth than I had let myself see. I called my T in crisis because I was shaking and crying. He managed to arrange an extra session (he came through for me like nobody ever has, ever) and ended up reading to me. I can't think about this properly yet as it's too much. I stopped taking Prozac. It dulled my senses but it didn't make my life better.

My ex eventually ran up a lot of debt in my name, spent money that was meant for bills and hid the court summons so I only found out when the bailiffs turned up. He eventually cheated on me and left me because I didn't want to sleep with him. But I hadn't wanted to sleep with him for a long time, but I just had to let him. And he wouldn't use condoms, even though I wanted to, and I had no say in that, or in anything. If I was upset, I ended up apologising to him. And only recently have I seen how that's exactly like my dad. If I'm upset and angry, I'm wrong and I have to be sorry. My ex didn't hit me. But, like I said, I need to widen my definition of violence.

After we split I decided love wasn't for me, I was fundamentally worthless and unloveable. I spent some time having quite destructive experiences I don't really want to go into. I think I hit absolute rock bottom when I was sexually assaulted and I just didn't care, I thought: it's only me, who cares. And I sort of relished the way it made me feel. It was the same feeling I used to get from SI.

I took control of my life. I studied friends' relationships (kind of like a child does) and learned to have healthy relationships and friendships and kind of broke out of the repetition compulsion. I started to get on better with my parents after my dad was ill and somehow forgot what it used to be like. I got a good career, but kept having problems with male bosses bullying me, as the pattern repeated there instead, so now I have a freelance business and do pretty well. I met my husband, got married, forgot about how my parents used to treat me. My brother had kids and my dad seemed to mellow, though he still decides I should just stop talking (even if I'm answering a question he asked) and shouts at me until I do.

But I was anxious and stressed all the time, in disproportionate ways. Something was leaking out of me. So I started therapy, and then I started to remember. I tried to talk to my mum. She said: "That was a difficult time for me. At least you spent a lot of time out of the house. I gave you a lot of lifts." Doesn't seem to have occurred to her that the wrong person was out of the house.

And now I'm married and I want to start a family but I feel I need to spend time in therapy first. And I'm just really frightened and sad. I think I have complex PTSD. I'm finding therapy very hard.

I told my T: "I'm not going to kill myself. I didn't get this far just to give up now." And he said: "But it wouldn't be unreasonable if you did." Which might sound irresponsible, but it wasn't, it was important, because it was the first time anyone had said I had the right to feel the way I do. Therapy has been eye-opening. When I started telling him about my childhood, he didn't say it wasn't that bad. He asked why I didn't run away.

For a while there I believed my past wasn't so bad, but now I'm starting to see how bad it was. But others have been through so much worse and I feel so bad about complaining. I think my T would have something to say about that, too.

[picklewheeze]

Tinyrabbit, well done for writing this all out. I hope it can help you to stand unwinding the complex tangle that is life and sort through it in order to move on.
I appreciate that no two lifes are the same, but our stories are remarkable similar in some ways.
I'm actually in a really similar place to you in some ways at the minute. I too sorted myself out, learnt things my own way and moved on but am also still bearing the weight of my past and it is beginning to show.

I'll expand..

My parents were also fairly hopeless. My mum is and always has been all over the place. She has absolutely no back bone and it pisses me off. I'll never forget the time I had all my friends round and I could hear smashing and shouting and I looked out my window to see my dad speeding off in his van and just thought '****'. I went downstairs and my mum was just standing there washing up, surrounded by a kitchen that had been smashed to pieces by my dad. I just thought what the ****? How you just ****ing stand there? But thats my mum.

She's one of those people that everyone thinks is lovely and nice but its like they say, its always the quiet ones. I dont trust her. I remember once bickering with my brother on the way to school so she just let go of the wheel, clenched her hands in the air screaming and said we might aswell drive in to the lampost. I grabbed the wheel, she calmed down and just dropped us to school as normal. As though nothing had happened. I cried at school and said my mum wanted to kill herself, my friends didn't know what to say. I sorted myself out and went home and it was like nothing had ever happened.

She still now is very hard to deal with and understand is always preventing me from the getting the help I need. She needs help too, but I'd never tell her that! She just doesn't understand mental illness in the slightest, even though I've been unwell for some time.

My dads been violent, angry etc. but thats just him. Me and my brother were used to it and dealt with it and since my little sister was born he hasn't been so bad and I dont mind him. I can forgive my dad for everything he's done because it kind off made sense in its own weird way. However, its my mum I can't stand.

My brother had to move out when he was 18 because of 'safeguarding' issues. He's never moved back and we hardly speak. Its **** because he's the only person that was there with me at the time. But he just doesn't want anything to do with me, probably because it reminds him off the past.

We were past around a lot as kids. Mainly because my dad was busy with work and my mum was more interested in her horse than us. Everyone just argued and it was crazy. My Nan was AMAZING. She was my favourite person in the whole world. She'd bath me and brush my teeth so I wouldn't get bullied at school. She'd show me a glimpse of what a real childhood was like. She'd stick up for me and defend me. But she'd only have me two days a week cause she had her own life. Which was ****. I owe my Nan the world cause she saved me from so much.

I'd also have to spend a lot of time at various aunts and uncles etc basically anyone who would take us. This is where things get messy.. I don't like to go into it too much because I still havent really got my head round it. One of my older cousins used to abuse me. She'd make me and her younger brother do 'stuff'. She'd also use me herself. It was horrible. Noone understands it because she's not that much older. They don't get it. But for me, I think it makes it worse. Its just even more pathetic. I couldn't even stop someone who wasn't much more than a girl herself from abusing me. Its just messed up. I have no idea if anything ever happened between my brother and her as he too is older than me. But my brother also did stuff to me on one occasion. Then one day he pushed himself up against my back and asked me whether he felt big. I felt sick. Thats why my brother got moved out.

The last time she abused me was when I was about 15/16. Thats disgusting. I should have been old enough to stop it by then. But I didnt know what to do. Paralysed by my old childish fears. My other cousin was in the room but he just pretended to be asleep. It makes me feel sick.

When I was 14, I too self harmed. I took an overdose and was in hospital for a couple of days. Following that, I was on a no sharps policy. So I also started beating myself up. I'd break my own ribs and as soon as the bruise faded I'd do it again. There was something really symbolic about my ribs but I still dont know what it is. I used to prefer this because it was much easier to hide than cutting. Then about 2 months later I got a pair of scissors. I slit my wrists and overdosed again and was hospitalised for a week. This was when I mentioned what had happened with my brother. I never said anything about my cousin because I was too scared.

So they thought it was my brother. Noone believed me. I spoke to my male cousin who'd been involved and my older cousin, the abuser, found out. She went mental. Turned it all on me said I was a screw up making up lies. Said I was accusing my younger cousin of abusing me and how would that work he was too young etc etc. So yeah everyone thinks I'm just messed up. I'm still too scared to say it was her. I think that was why she did what she did when I was a bit older. She hadnt abused me in ages I think as she haddn't had the opportunity. She was really out of control this time. It was quite messy and the threats after were quite horrific. I think she knew she'd gone too far. But I was still too scared to tell.

Then, similar to you. I thought **** this. I'll just do it for myself. I sorted myself out. Excluded myself from my family. Slept rough, did what it took to get by. Passed my qualifications, got into uni etc. My Nan was too ill to know any different I hardly really got to see her anymore which SUCKED and when I did she couldnt really have a conversation anymore and my Grandad looked after her.

I had quite a few issues with men, I let people walk all over me still as I knew no other way. It just got worse and worse and I built up more and more issues for myself. Then my Nan had her cancer operated on. Her dementia was ten times worse and I went to see her and she was so vulnerable. I was scared for her. So I cared for her for 9 months until she died.

When she died I was overwhelmed by all the anxiety and depression I'd buried for so many years. I had anxiety attacks all the time, my depression was unbearable. I tried to struggle on with medication but got worse and worse.

Then, I met who I thought was an amazing guy. For 2 weeks, I was happy. Then it all turned to **** like everything else. He sexually assaulted me after a night out. Looking back, all the signs were there. Everything I thought was him being nice wasn't. At first, he'd try and force me to drink, swapping my cokes for vodka and cokes thinking I wouldn't notice. Holding my head and puring drink into it. Bit ****ed up I know but I didnt see it.

He'd stay sober with me on nights out I thought out of kindness. Looking back, maybe it was because he knows what he's like when hes drunk. That night was awful. It was horrible. He said sorry the next morning. For a few days I thought its okay its fine. Then I got worse and worse and thought **** its really not. I told him to leave me alone as he was becoming a bit of a stalker and after a while he did.

Since that night my anxiety has increased ten fold. I don't want anyone near me. I can't stand people being behind me. I don't like the sound of people breathing. Just everything overwhelms me. I can't sleep, nothing. I think it has just knocked me right back to where I used to be.

I miss my Nan, I want to grieve her and move on but with all this going on I can't.

This is such an essay for a response and I know it doesn't help you much, but I thought I'd share it with you as I feel there are a fair few cross overs. Youre the first person I have spoken to who also used to hit themself.

OH and btw, so many people have said to me I dont need therapy and I should just 'get over it' and things like that. But there ridiculous. Just focus on number one. We both know we need help. Don't let anyone or anything get in the way of it.

If I had a penny for every time I'd said 'people have been through worse' I honestly would be a millionaire. Thats not what its about. You've had **** in your life and you have more than the right to complain. Dont worry about anyone else worry about YOU.

Its taken me a long time to work the above out for myeslf but you will. And if you're anytihng like me, it wont be until you've knocked one wall down that you see the next. Especially when you're trying to work through the past. But trust me, you'll get there.

[picklewheeze]

Oh and also, I had counselling between ages of 14 and 16 and never said a word. I had similar things said to me 'you only get out what you put in' and things like that. I used to think, do you have ANY idea how much I would LOVE to sit here and tell you everything and be free of it? But I couldn't. I had too many people to protect. And I was too scared, the safest place for me to keep everything was in my own head. But it was ruining me.

I think when you get let down by enough people, you get used to having no support and just stop expecting it off anyone. You think youre alone in it and always will be, so theres no point trying to get help. But youre really NOT and there IS help out there. I can tell just by reading this that you will get through this, because you want to. You have the drive just keep fighting and I will too.

[tinyrabbit]

picklewheeze, thank you ever so much for responding to my post. I just sent you a friend request, I hope that’s okay. I’m sorry you have a similar story, but glad you have managed to find some way through the fog.

This, here, that you say about your mother: “She's one of those people that everyone thinks is lovely and nice” is exactly how I feel about mine. Everyone is taken in by her. Everyone thinks she is so nice. Recently I stopped and asked myself why and I realised it’s how she says things. But when I listen to what she says, it’s a different story. Everyone else is taken in by her but I’m not.

My T has helped me to see that my mum doesn’t choose to be like this, that she genuinely doesn’t realise what she is doing. I don’t feel any better about it, because it works for her and not for me, but I am coming round to the idea that this is her way of coping with life and she doesn’t know what she’s doing. But I still don’t know how someone can listen to their own child cry and just talk over them even when they put their fingers in their ears and scream: “Would you please just LISTEN to me.” She never listens.

I’m glad your nan was so wonderful, but so sorry about everything else that happened to you. I’m sorry people hurt you and didn’t look after you. It’s not fair and it’s not right. You’re not pathetic at all. Have you heard of something called agency? It’s a term I learned in sociology, and it basically means the ability to act for yourself. You didn’t have the agency to protect yourself, nobody taught you how, nobody taught you to value yourself. It wasn’t your fault. Abuse is NEVER your fault. Easier to say to someone else than to believe, I realise.

My T told me in a group thing he did in training, they all wrote what they thought were their most shameful secrets on cards, anonymously, and the group leader read them out, and nobody thought anyone else’s was shameful. And then he told me he thought the problem with that exercise was that it perpetuated the idea that anyone should be ashamed by these things at all.

I don’t think many people realise how impressive it is to somehow keep going, to keep putting one foot in front of the other. I hope you are proud of all you have achieved. I want to be, but I don’t let myself. Don’t apologise for writing an essay. It’s not about whether it helps me. I like to think we’re all in this together, supporting each other, and it’s good to talk, and to feel like we’re not alone, and we’re not the only ones who ever felt this way.

You, too, are the only person I have spoken to who hit themselves. I haven’t told my T, I told him I used to SI but not how.

Please remember what you wrote here: “If I had a penny for every time I'd said 'people have been through worse' I honestly would be a millionaire. Thats not what its about. You've had **** in your life and you have more than the right to complain. Dont worry about anyone else worry about YOU.”

If possible, please print it out and frame it. Because it’s true.

(((hugs)))

[tinyrabbit]

"I had similar things said to me 'you only get out what you put in' and things like that. I used to think, do you have ANY idea how much I would LOVE to sit here and tell you everything and be free of it?" Exactly.

My T says I don't have to do anything except show up. I don't have to talk, or tell him anything, I just have to show up. I told him I wished I'd been sent to him when I was 15, but I doubt I could have talked to him then.

[picklewheeze]

yeah thats the things isn't it. When I was younger, my hands were tied. I would honestly have given anything to admit to my feelings but because it wasn't confidential I couldn't. Now its become a habit and I still find it really hard. I've always been really cryptic and I have a tendency to imply things rather than having the guts to actually say anything. But slowly its changing.

I don't know whether you feel the same. But for me, its like every copy mechanism I've ever put in place is still there. But it doesn't work anymore. I'm in a new world now, where I have the opportunity to talk and seek help. But inside I'm still that fourteen year old girl who couldn't do anything. I'm not an adult, not at all. Whenever people ask me how old I am it takes me a while to work it out, in my head I always INSTANTLY think I'm fourteen. Its like I'm stuck there.

Trigger warning on this: How do you feel about like the hitting thing? Don't feel you have to answer. I just wonderered whether you'd ever considered if there was any significance to it, or whether it was simply you didnt have the opportunity to cut (I dont know if you did or not). For me it was better. It was prolonged and it hurt all the time. I could feel it there all the time. Everytime I moved every breathe I took it hurt and I think I liked it. It meant I was carrying around the physical pain rather than the emotional pain. If I could cut myself and it be healed the next minute so no one would ever see it, I probably do it all the time.

Yeah, thats one my mum is like as well! I completely know where youre coming from. Noone can ever understand why I can't tell my mum anything. But its like you say, its there way of dealing with it. I think my mum is just in complete denial about everything. I havent got the strength to get her out of it. She'll have to do it herself, I give up supporting her.

Sometimes I'd rather she wasn't there at all. Either she's there and supports me or she just leaves me to get the help I need. Rather than her hanging over me.

I think it will take me a LONG time to work through the muddle of emotions I have from my childhood and the abuse, but thanks for your really kind words. They honestly do mean a lot. I would just ask that you also read them yourself, because you say things like 'you won't let yourself' do things etc and believe me I know exactly how this feels. Ive done nothing but hurt myself for years and its like I just know I dont deserve to be happy or loved or nourished because I'm a wrong person. But you just have to think **** it I do.

Please please please 'let yourself' be happy. Because you can be, your taking every step in the right direction and you will get there.

I agree about people not being impressed by us carrying on. At the moment, I've been signed off my work. My work involves me going to some really high-stress and hard situations and currently I've been told its not in my best 'emotional interest' to carry on. I have 6 weeks to sort myself out. When I told my parents they were so unsupported. They said why what are you doing whats so hard about it? Just buck up your ideas and carry on. You can't just 'buck up' anxiety, depression and probably some elements of PTSD from my recent assault. But they don;t understand. Ive always been the one who coped. I looked after my mum, I looked after my dad when he was so drunk I'd have to roll him on his side to stop him choking on his own sick. I brought my sister up so her life could be better than mine. I cared for my Nan, I care for my Grandad. I got all the abuse. I'd rather take it myself than let it happen to someone else. Probably because I think I deserve it, I deserve to feel ****. I know youre gonna tell me I don't but that just how I feel.

I've never been allowed to crumble, to cry. Every single time someone abused me I'd lie there and take it. Id never struggle, I'd never cry. I'd just take it. So now everyone thinks I can handle everything. But the secret it is I can't. I just want to crumble and cry and not have to carry on. But I can't. But now I have to. I have to stop for these 6 weeks and TRY to sort myself out. I just wish my family had a CLUE what was going on in my head at the moment. But they dont any then never will. So I'll do it alone, again. But hopefully get better this time.

[tinyrabbit]

"But inside I'm still that fourteen year old girl who couldn't do anything." Yeah, this. Not all the time. But often in T.

Re the hitting thing. I did used to cut, as well. I haven't quite unravelled this, but I told my T "it's not as if I was being beaten black and blue every night," and he said "In a way it would have been easier if you were," and I said "I wished I was so I'd have something to show for how I felt." So I think that's the answer. Also, I had this idea that unless someone beat me up I had nothing to complain about. Not that I showed anyone.

I think taking time off work sounds like a very, very good thing. It's about time you concentrated on yourself, because you deserve to be happy, and to feel better, and to take time out. Like you said, you're taking steps in the right direction and you WILL get there.

(((Hugs)))

[picklewheeze]

"I wished I was so I'd have something to show for how I felt." So I think that's the answer. Also, I had this idea that unless someone beat me up I had nothing to complain about. Not that I showed anyone.

That is exactly the same as me. The weird thing is, I'd hide it really well. But a bit of me would half hope someone would see. But then not ask me about it. Just that they'd know, someone would have a vague idea of what I was going through. Its hard being on your own, it really is.

[tinyrabbit]

"But a bit of me would half hope someone would see. But then not ask me about it. Just that they'd know, someone would have a vague idea of what I was going through."

EXACTLY THIS

(((Hugs)))

Thank you for making me feel a bit less alone. I never spoke to anyone else who did this.

[picklewheeze]

The same goes to you! Neither have I.. Maybe I might actually tell my counselor about it now..

The things is, I think when you keep things to yourself you only have one perspective. Every thing I've said to my counselor, she's just said. But that is normal, that is a normal way to feel and thing to do in the way you feel. I think no matter how irrational something may seem, when you start to unpick it there is a rationale behind it. Its just finding it and sorting that out.

But I might be totally wrong!

I hope we can continue to chat, I think we have a fair amount in common. All the best

[tinyrabbit]

Yes, please do keep chatting, and posting, it's good to talk and not feel alone. And if I have inspired you to talk to your counselor, that's great.

I was going to say I spend little time worrying about whether my actions were rational. But then I remember how much I've beaten myself up mentally for refusing family therapy (er, would you want to go sit in a room with my family for an hour, try to make yourself heard and then go home with them after?) which my mum seems to think means I have zero right to complain. And any number of other regrets.

[picklewheeze]

yeah thats what I mean.

A couple of months ago I agreed to go back to my doctors and be put on the waiting list for counselling, because I realised if I didnt start to help myself, noone would help me. I was fed up of leaning on my friends. But now, I'm doing this for me. I want to get better. I need help, I know I do. Its taken me sinking to an all time low, but now I can see it. I hope that this drive will continue to drive me until I am on a step where I can stand safely and look back down to where I once WAS. Yeah WAS.

I think its easy to regret things, but whats done is done. I held my Nan until she died and I can honestly say it was the worst experience of my life. She looked AWFUL and I only stayed with her because she looked scared and I didnt want her to be alone. After she died I left, I couldnt stand being in the same room. She looked like a dead person. On the day of her funeral, I was offered one last opportunity to see her body before she was cremated. I'd say no til then but my Grandad had been and he said it was worth it she looked a lot better than when she died. I asked my friend and she said would you not rather regret going, than regret not going? She said if you go, you can leave. But if you don't and she's gone its too late.

So I went. She looked beautiful. She held her hands how she used to and looked content and peaceful and safe. I wanted to stay there forever. I will never forget going to see her and I will never regret it. I love my Nan more than anything still and I am glad I have that image to remember her by rather than the last.

Guess what Im trying to say is try not to regret or beat yourself up. I try my hardest now not to give myself anything to regret, but obviously there will always be things in life its hard not to regret. The thing is, so much in life is out of your control and I think its foolish to regret things that are out of your control. I still have LOADS of self hatred, self blame and really strong emotions about the abuse in my past. But I wouldnt say I regret it, because I couldnt have done anything different. And what I did at the time, to just lie there and take it, was my way of 'dealing' with it. I cant change it. And if I'd fought I think it'd still be the same.