After realizing yesterday what the fuck was wrong with me the whole week, see Happy Rape Anniversary Week, I feel a lot better.
I don’t feel crazy. I feel in control.
I feel a weight lifted off my shoulders.
I know the reason for my more than normal PTSD.
Today was the first day I woke up without painful depression in days. I have some anxiety. But, nothing I can’t handle.
My mom is being extra nice (or attempting to be) because I explained what was going on. She stayed with me and talked to me. She never actually talks about my “problems” because it stresses her out and gives her “nightmares”. Still, it was nice to have company. And I got a hug.
Hugs are nice when life is in the shits.