I don’t know what is happening to me.
Three hours ago I was completely fine. I haven’t been sleeping well anyway and I’m a little tired, but that shouldn’t warrant this.
Today the dark passenger talked to me when I was with other people. I was teaching with my sister, and whilst I was sorting some things out around the studio… and they spoke.
They called me a whore. Again. In front of a class of small children, lovely innocent kids who shouldn’t have to see their teacher twitch randomly as if an annoying fly had flown too close to her head.
Of course I pretended that nothing was wrong. Of course I didn’t mention it to anyone.
This evening I thought I saw my ex in a house across the road, whilst walking my dog home. I heard the dark passenger tell me again to kill myself. I saw the knife in my head. I felt the tears choke my throat, and I felt despair return as I tried to think of a way out of this shit. Nothing I could think of made me feel safe as two men walked along the road on the other side. I thought I heard footsteps behind me.
I am upset. I want my life to be normal. I am tired. I want to run to J but he’s so far away, and my mum and sister are out this weekend. I have my dad, but I don’t want to burden him.
Why can I not just stay balanced?! Why do these voices torment me?!
I am so sick of being in tears, of feeling guilty and worried and insecure. I feel triggered and I keep thinking I have the word TARGET written across my head, beckoning in any and all rapists or abusers. I feel tonight like the dark passenger is staining all my thoughts and trying to erase any good last night did. I had a revelation last night and felt like I was reclaiming my body. Now, I just feel like the dark passenger is trying to control me again and I am frightened.
I hate this. I truly hate the way I am sometimes. J doesn’t deserve to have to come home and put me right every time something like this happens. Nor do my parents or friends.
Why can I never deal with things rationally?
Tonight I am a scared girl wishing that an atrocious incident in a flat in South London had never happened. The ugly word floats in front of my eyes. The terror of the experience is very real tonight. I feel as if I’m suffocating. I hate my mood swings.
I want this to be over.
I want my innocence back.