[Trigger warning; rage, mention of abuse, self-shaming]
If you have read my post Cloudy with a chance of fuck-ups, you know that I have been on a camping trip this weekend. You know how some people piss you off just by being around? Like there’s just something about them that annoys the fuck out of you? Well, there were a few people like that present. Unfortunately, we had to participate in one of those “team work” exercises and I was in the same group as two of those irritating dudes. They mad me really angry and then it happened: one of them grabbed his friend, some girl, by the back of her neck and pushed her down; a form of abuse I’ve been subjected to countless times while growing up. Seeing that triggered me badly. Even thinking and writing about it now upsets me deeply. The angry man (if you don’t know who I’m talking about, see “about me”) took over with almost full force. Now, he can’t take over physically, but he doesn’t have to to cause me distress. He filled my body with warm, hard wrath, my mind with hateful thoughts. I could no longer distinguish myself from him, he was everywhere. I was him. He started talking through me. He didn’t confront the person who upset him because, like I said, he can’t control my body that way. He was out for hours though. His torture fantasies getting crueler and crueler, vivider and vivider. I hid in my room, afraid of lashing out on someone (not for their sake due to the angry man’s lack of empathy, but for my mental health’s sake).
I/ the angry man sent my boyfriend a text: “I want to kill them in their sleep”. Talking to my boyfriend helped me see that I wasn’t not myself, it wasn’t me feeling those feelings and thinking those thoughts. Realizing that helped me push through, resurface, and gradually reclaim my body and mind. The angry man still lingers here, but it’s manageable.
By this point I was slowly “waking up”. His torture fantasies made me a little nauseous, but I didn’t want to fight them or him. He has been… not growing stronger, but well, revealing more of himself and his wishes. It scares me and shakes me to the bone to have someone like that living in my body. At the same time, I try to accept him and giving him room to exist. He is here because I, at some point, needed him. I probably still do so suppressing him seems foolish. He needs to vent, locking him away would probably only make him angrier. At least that’s my line of reasoning. I hope I’m right. I do expect it to get worse before it gets better, though. And honestly, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to do it. He is so terrifying, the idea of letting him speak his mind (expressing himself in words, pictures, thoughts and so on, not in actions) is absolutely horrifying. Probably because I’m pretty sure that he is very capable of doing the things he fantasies about.
After the worst was over, and I was finally calming down, I was struck by so much shame and self-loathing. The things he wants… It’s disturbing, extremely disturbing. It’s hard to distance myself from that. i couldn’t help but think that if they knew what was really going on inside, no one would dare being near me. No one would want anything to do with me. How the fuck could anyone care about me? How the fuck could anyone love me? I’m just sick. Mentally ill. Fucking disturbed. Why would anyone want to be with me? They’d have to be incredibly stupid.
I’m feeling better now. Those self-hating thoughts have passed for now. It’s so hard to admit that I have them, but I guess I’m not alone in having them. However:
“I’ll take the truth at any cost”
– We are broken by Paramore
And on that note, I say my goodbyes for now.