I had a really bad attack of the voices last night. I knew that at sometime they would attack me- and they all went for the throat.
I paced the hall, my hands on my head, trying not to hear them.
Whore. Little fucking whore. Go back to bed and wait like the good little whore you are.
… and more, but I’m not writing that because it’s so vulgar and disgusting.
J was in the bathroom, and when he came out he went to the bedroom to look for me. When he saw me in the corridor he asked me what was wrong.
“Please make them shut up!”
He opened his arms and held me while I cried.
“Hey baby, it’s ok. They don’t exist- remember they’re just thoughts that your ex planted in your head. It’s not your fault and you definitely are not a whore.”
Slowly, I started to calm down. My sobs slowly began to die away, and the tears stopped falling. He then got me in bed and proceeded to play me silly videos and a comedian who had me in pleats until I felt safe enough to sleep.
I am so lucky.