(no subject)

It's been a while since I've logged on, so I just wanted to tell you that I'm doing okay. More than okay, actually. I feel as if I'm actually starting to work through a lot of stuff from my past, which is, of course, a good thing. My nightmares... they're not gone, but they're certainly a lot better. What I mean by that is... I'm fighting back now. Before I'd kind of just give up, but now I fight. My therapist says this is good... that my subconscious is seeking for a resolution.

I have two friends who know what all has happened to me, and they've been a tremendous source of support for me. They've helped me through triggers and flashbacks, and were there for me a month ago when there was a sexual predator loose in the area, going after people at our school. Rose has helped me just talk through things... rant... all that good ol' stuff whenever I'm having a difficult time. She helps me, gives me advice and such. Austin listens. I can't even begin to describe how helpful that is... to have somebody truly just listen to you. He's also started teaching me self-defense - which is SO EMPOWERING.

So, all in all, I'm doing great. I still have my low days - months, even, but I'm able to work through them with the support of those who love me. I don't know if I could be any more blessed than that.

Hope you all are doing okay.

Safe hugs,

Rachel Grace

(no subject)

I'm disgusted at myself. I feel like I've just hit this unpassable brick wall. Like I'm just running up to it again and again, bashing my head into the stone, hoping that somehow I'll even make a dent, because it's too hard to climb, and I keep falling back down again. I don't know how long it's going to take me to realize that physical pain, physical pleasure, whatever, isn't going to help me heal myself when I'm just using it to escape. After trying to escape, I just sit here, guiltier than before, just absolutely disgusted. I don't know... am I even explaining myself clearly?

It's been over two years now since that last time... it's so weird to think of that, because I don't remember the last time I went over two years. Was it before I turned six? Or even earlier than that? Or have I never gone two years without something happening? And yet, with each day that passes, I don't feel a sense of accomplishment, relief, or happiness... I just feel dread. I feel like nothing matters... I'm going to be raped again anyhow. And I don't know why I'm thinking like that. It's awfully pessimistic of me, and I'm not generally a pessimist. It's just... I've always had a sort of "sixth sense" in regards to these kind of things... I always know when something bad is going to happen, or when something bad has happened to somebody I care about. I don't know how, either. I can probably pick up subtle signals from people or something. But this... it's just so utterly unfounded! It's maddening!!! I'm just expecting it to happen, and wondering if, when it does, I'll actually have the courage to tell somebody this time. *headdesk*

I still can't sleep all that well either... I'm always having dreams of some sort. Even on the nights that I don't have nightmares (or, at least that I remember), I'm always dreaming that I'm doing something very active. When I wake up, I still feel tired, as if I haven't slept - after all, I've been running or jumping or swimming or whatever all night long. Sigh. One of these days, it'll get better... but until then, I'm driving myself crazy, or at least, moreso than I already am.

Well, if this makes no sense, it's probably because I haven't slept in over two and a half days. Blah.

(no subject)

A little over a week ago, I got in a fight with my dad. Anyhow, the whole thing culminated in him suddenly making some observations that were very close to the truth about how I'm feeling. I was freaking out a bit, but didn't really show it. Then he says, "I want to read you something". He takes out his computer, and proceeds to read an entry I made in _survivors_. Cue major panic attack complete with flashbacks.

I guess somebody was watching out for me though, because nothing really important was revealed. Basically, the entry was one I had made on vacation using his computer. Somehow, while deleting the internet history, that one entry URL wasn't erased. That could have been coincidence, but also - what about this? Not only was it that one page out of many that wasn't erased, but that one entry happened to be talking about me 'spacing out' - dissociating. Not once was the word "abuse" mentioned. So basically, my parents only know that I 'space out' - though I know they know something is wrong.

My dad asked me what _survivors_ was. I told him something strange that I know he didn't believe... but whatever. He said he wouldn't go browsing livejournal to find anything else, and I am forced to trust him on that.

My parents have agreed to get me a counselor. My introduction appointment is this coming Friday.

I guess everything worked out for good, but I'm really nervous about the appointment. Siiiigh.

(no subject)

In the book I got, the "Invisible Heroes" one, it talks a lot about how the trauma survivor becomes more in touch with the right side of their brains after the trauma. In a lot of ways, trauma actually rewires the brain in different ways to where the right side of the brain is strengthened. Knowing this can help a lot with healing, because it can help the individual become more in touch with themselves and their experiences while actively healing from them. Imagery is the best healing method known for this reason.

I've been working with imagery since I've learned that, and it's really been helping. I've found that when I've realized I'm starting to dissociate, there are things I can do to help myself reconnect with my body. The first one, which I discovered myself and expanded upon, is to sit somewhere, close my eyes, and count ten slow breaths. While doing it, I visualize what I am wearing, where I am, and what's around me - in vivid color, detail, and feeling. By the time I reach ten, I'm calm and in control. It also helps when I'm entering into a panic attack. Another thing I found, which I read in the book, is to close my eyes, breathe slowly, and visualize a type of spirit presence (I see it as a type of concentrated aura) that starts in the head, then moves slowly down the body, until it reaches the ground and is swallowed up. It helps me to get back into my body when I feel as if I'm 'floating away' to watch things from a corner.

Now, on to the reason I thought to write this.

Last night, before I went to bed, I was just feeling generally crappy. It was one of those nights where I just knew was going to end up having a flashback. So I'm laying in bed, eyes closed, and I decide to try a new type of imagery. It was the weirdest but best sensation I've had. I completely forgot that I was doing imagery, and actually started believing it was real. I'm getting ahead of myself though. But here's what I ended up Seeing.

I was facing the door to my room, and I heard a rustle of movement. A faint, pulsing light started growing brighter and brighter by me, fanning out, until there was a woman by me. She radiated a sense of warmth and caring from her, and I instinctively knew that I had no reason to be afraid. She was beautiful, with blonde hair that draped across a part of her face, coming to rest by her cheek. She took my hand in hers - I realized she wasn't solid, but yet still there. I could put my hand through hers, but yet it wasn't a chilly, clammy feeling I got when doing so, but a soft, caring immaterial touch. This woman - this angel - held my hand in hers and whispered to me, "Don't worry. You are safe. I am here with you. Nothing can hurt you anymore. You are beautiful, you are strong. You will heal, and I will be here with you. You may not always see me, but I will always be right beside you, protecting you." She put her hand on my forehead, and a golden light appeared, growing, until it was a little ball of light. It grew, expanding through my whole body, down to my toes - everywhere. As it covered the final parts of my body, it suddenly exploded outwards to where it formed a shining, golden outline a few feet from me, encircling my body. The light pulsed brightly, then disappeared. I realized that the angel had protected me - that because of this protection, nobody could hurt me again. I started to cry, but not tears of sadness and shame for once, but tears of happiness and joy. Then my door opened, and a figure darker than the darkest of night entered my room, coming towards me. I knew who it was. The angel stood up and said to the figure, "It is not yet your time. Your time has passed. Leave her be." Her light shone brighter and brighter, until the darkness was eaten up by the light. The figure was gone, and I was safe. By this time, I fully realized that by the Protection I had been given, I could not be hurt by the darkness. Crying again, I thanked her, and asked, "What is your name? Please, I must know." The angel smiled at me and told me, "You will know my name when the time has come. Just know that I am with you, and will always be with you, even when you cannot see me." Her light began to grow dimmer, until she disappeared. Yet, I knew she was there - just lurking out of sight, watching over me.

I woke up this morning without having any nightmares, remembering the Light that protected me.

And I know, I am safe. If that was imagery, it was amazing. Yet it feels like more than that - it feels almost tangible and real. Maybe it was.

I can feel the Light's aura inside of my chest, reminding me of its presence.

(no subject)

I have no idea what has gotten into my mother. But whatever it is, the bottom line is that she's being extremely emotionally abusive right now. She's acting as if she did nothing wrong at all. Incredulous, if you will. I don't know what to think. I can't think straight anymore. Maybe she wasn't at all, like she said. Maybe she was just ranting about the computer, and I took it the wrong way. But I know deep inside that that isn't true.

God. God. God. God. God. God. God.

I can't take it anymore right now.

But I think I figured it out... like she said, I was guilty. I overreacted. I'm to blame. I mess everything up, don't I?

I'm hypervenilating right now.

She's never acted this way before... ever.

What the hell is wrong???