anniversary. no, not in a good way.

The topic of anniversaries came up in a blog I have begun to follow – http://en.wordpress.com/read/blog/id/52332387/ – and I felt dreadful whilst reading it. Who would want to treat a child so? How could anyone do that to another human being? I also felt sad for her, as I love Halloween and Bonfire Night, and for her those festivals are tainted and hellish. I left a comment for her in the hopes she might take a little comfort from it.

I was completely unaware of the bad mood that was creeping up on me yesterday, and it only got worse today when I suddenly realised the heart-clogging despair was back and I was beginning to talk back to the voices of the dark passenger again. I found myself wondering what the hell I was doing, moving back to the Company, and I started to think of the knife blade against my skin-

I had to talk to myself and go and do something to make myself feel more balanced. I checked on the dog (he had a pain-attack last night, bless him), did some laundry, and did some jobs I’d meant to for a while.

I went dancing, as usual, and when I got home the dog was feeling that much better that he was begging for a walk. So, I took him, despite hating being out in the dark alone. I felt twitchy, had to cross the road when a lone jogger ran past, and was watching every shadow for unseen attackers.

I was on the way home, trying to persuade the dog that walking through all the wet leaf mulch was NOT a good idea, and I was thinking about the post I had read about anniversaries of trauma. I was wondering how it must feel to feel even more terrified, distressed, lonely and isolated than this, when it hit me.

Today and yesterday are one big fucking anniversary. I ran away at 16 years old around bonfire night, and the trauma associated was obviously rearing its ugly head.

Now everything made sense- my irritability, my crankiness, my fear and tension and upset. I was having a throwback, emotionally, to the day that marks the start of serious problems. I was a mess that day. Both wrists were bleeding, I had hands so cold I could barely feel to open the car door. I was so cold it sat in my bones for a week and I did get a cold, to add insult to injury. The people I lived with stared. I only remember few snippets, but it’s not something I want to remember.

Once I’d picked over what I can remember, and thought about it, I felt suddenly calmer. I still felt sad, but knowing why relieved the tension and walking-on-eggshells feeling I’d had all day. It was only remembered pain- it was not something to panic about.

So I want to thank you, ISurvivor, for writing what you wrote. It has made me understand that at certain times of the year, I am probably going to have some really shitty days- the worst of it being in Summer. However, know I know what it happening, I can try and fight it, and hopefully win.

 

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