Over it? That’s a foreign concept.

A lot of shit has sprung from the past fifteen months of having to live with this, label. Having to live with the flashbacks of what he did. 

Self destructive behaviours have become my friend throughout this time, and in all honesty that does not even make me sad anymore. Functioning on numb, I was told that I can function on numb, but, who the fuck wants that?

I’m caught between a rock and a hard place now. I don’t feel strong enough to be without my antidepressants, yet they are bringing my appetite back, on the other hand I don’t feel strong enough to stop starving myself or purging, because it distracts me from having to think about what he did.

I’m on my break at the moment and just eaten my snack, and I’m so upset at myself I could cry. I know that’s stupid, like it’s so fucking stupid, but now I don’t have hunger pains distracting me and I am so scared now that I won’t be able to stop those thoughts and flashbacks from happening. I really am scared I’m trying not to cry in the staff room. I hate being like this, I hate him still having this over me. I’m a sack of absolute shit in comparison to the person that I was before. Before being raped. 


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