Being triggered (I think that's what they call it in therapy) is no fun. NO. FUN. Your life flows backwards to the time, the day, the bunch of days when you were scared and depressed and barely functional. Barely. And it went on for TWO YEARS. Like a sentence in hell. Never ending hell. And nothing worked to make it go away. No drugs or behaviors or other people. You're stuck with your shitty self, waking up with a pounding heart and no appetite and other lives swirling around you, oblivious to your pain. As if you're the center of the universe anyway. And you still have to go to work and take care of your kids and you pretend you're alright when other people ask. But you know you're not alright and who knows if you'll ever be alright again.
My honey is so nice to me. Even if I don't feel like I deserve it.