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I'm a little nervous because there are about five billion side effects, but I have decided to brave the world of antidepressants and try it.
I haven't made much progress in the Courage to Heal Workbook in the last couple days. I found that I was really really angry after doing the first chapter or two (unresolved anger sucks) and I ended up throwing the book and then collapsing on my bed in tears. So, needless to say, I've decided to take a few days off. And hey - maybe the Paxil will keep me from going into more book-slaying fits. Ah, antidepressant humor.
Thursday, July 29th, 1999
I have returned home from a trip and I will be in my hometown for the next two weeks. I feel as though I've been pushed hard against the ground, like the wind has been knocked out of me. I am in a state of hyper-awareness, as if I must stay alert at all times to avoid an attack. The first thing I did when I got home was clean and organize my entire room. I filled my bed with stuffed animals and put a VCR in my room, so I can watch movies late at night when I can't sleep. I felt like I was setting up a fortress to hide in.
Today I have been trying to figure out why I feel so vulnerable and scared all the time. I think that it has to do with all of the work I've been doing in Courage to Heal Workbook. For the last few weeks, I have been working through the book and as the book got harder, I leaned heavily on my boyfriend for support. He became my source of comfort - the person who helped me through panic attacks and held me while I cried. Now, he's absent entirely from my life. I'm sure that this, in addition to being back in my hometown after being away for several weeks, is why I feel panicked constantly.
I have not yet decided what I should do until he gets back. I could put away The Courage to Heal and stopped reading Telling: A Memoir of Rape and Recovery (the novel by Patricia Weaver Francisco that I am currently reading). That, on the one hand, would allow me to hide in my bubble, up in my room, and avoid anything triggering. On the other hand, I should probably learn to heal on my own.
I just don't feel very strong right now. I want to hide in my bed with my stuffed animals. I should probably get off my butt and push on with my healing.
Thursday, July 29th, 1999
I didn't sleep until 6:30 in the morning last night. When the sun came up and my room was lit, I finally fell asleep. Every day makes the next seem like an impossible task. When I'm awake, I live in a haze, zoning out completely so I don't have to think about anything. I dread leaving the house, because I am afraid that I will see the man who raped me - he lives only a few streets down. I am a prisoner. All of the work I did has removed the scar tissue and created an open wound in my life. Unfortunately, I am no longer healing. Fear keeps me from pushing on with the book. I can't take the next step alone, and that knowledge disappoints me - I am ashamed of this fear.
I have an image of myself stuck in my head. I am standing beneath several feet of quicksand - not in, but under, so when I look up, the sky is yellowed by the sand above me. I am staring at a piece of twine in my hand that is supposed to hold my weight as I attempt to climb, hand over hand, out of the pit. The image itself is exhausting - when I space out, it plays over and over again until something from the physical world jars me out of my head and I realize what I have been thinking about.
I'm too far in my healing to drown and too weak in this place to climb. So I sit here, staring at the twine.
Wednesday, August 4th, 1999
I'm feeling a lot better. I started taking an over-the-counter sleep aide called "Unisom" at bedtime, so I've been sleeping through the night. Today, I talked to my doctor and she said that the Paxil is probably what is causing the insomnia and that I don't have to worry if I continue taking the Unisom to help me sleep (which was good news because I was sure I would become addicted to it). I also asked my doctor for a referral to a therapist who specializes in rape survivors. She's talking to her referral expert and I have to call one of the counselors in my area and see if I can track down someone. Taking these steps on my own, without my boyfriend here to hold my hand, makes me feel a whole lot better.
Saturday, September 2nd, 1999
I told my best friend! She was so great about it. I don't know what helped me to do it, but suddenly I was just talking and talking and telling her everything. I feel so much better now and she was so supportive and wonderful. Yay!
I wrote another article for my school newspaper about rape. You can read it here.
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