Yup. You guessed it. I have done what I’ve been fighting so hard against, and I’ve slipped up. It started last night- three tiny little cuts, and then again in the shower today. I am numb again.
I have never felt so tormented, though, about a lapse. I was so desperate not to kill that butterfly. My cousin drew it for me.
So… I also had a horrible sleepless night last night. I had nightmares about the time he made me go take the morning after pill, and then before I slept, I could see him. His broad back to me, sitting on the edge of the bed.
I was frenzied. I was aching with terror. To see that again, as if he was just going to get into bed with me and pretend I was up for it … I curled up in a tiny ball and cried, shaking so hard my teeth rattled. I had another panic attack again in the shower, my skin scrubbed raw. Nothing can erase this taint.
I’ve been discharged from the crisis team, and I’m still waiting for a letter from the psychologist to tell me when to come see them. I cannot last out another week without telling my parents, but I wanted the advice of the psychologist first. Now I’m not sure how I’ll go about telling them how sick I feel I when I think of him, the skin-crawling horror of my memories, the things I hear in my head. I need support, but I don’t know how to ask for it from two people who have loved me all my life. If anyone has any advice on how to break it to them, please, please let me know. I’m desperate.