Dark days

For those that haven’t experienced what I call a 'dark day', it’s really hard to understand. A lot of people can't relate to it, can't comprehend it. I know a lot of people think 'well, why can't you just snap out of it?'

Imagine waking up, and feeling like there is no hope for anything. All your positive thoughts have gone. No matter how hard you try, you can’t think a single good thought. It might be the most beautiful day the world has ever seen, but you can’t see it. Something is stopping you from seeing it. It’s like there’s a black curtain covering your perception of the world.

Add to this, you are overwhelmed by feelings of self-loathing. Every negative thought you’ve ever had about yourself is multiplied by 100, by a thousand. Whatever your insecurities are, on a dark day these insecurities are all-consuming. You’re fat. You’re ugly. You’re stupid. No one loves you. You’re a complete waste of space. You're a burden.

That’s not all though. All the bad memories come flooding back to you. Every bad thing that happened to you hits your like a ton of bricks. When this wave of memories, of bad experiences, hit you, you become completely paralised. It's suffocating. In my case, the worst of these are the thoughts of my rape and abuse. The memories that will forever link me to this man. Who could ever love a damaged woman like me? I’m forever tainted by what he did to me. He destroyed the goodness I had. I didn’t fight back enough. I should have told someone what was happening. I let it happen. I deserved it.

Even though in my head I know that no one 'deserves' for this to happen to them. I know it wasn't my fault. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was vulnerable. He took advantage of that. I know this. But on a dark day, logic goes out of the window.

Add to all of this, you’re exhausted. Completely and utterly exhausted; physically, emotionally and mentally. You can barely summon up any energy to make it to the toilet, let alone put on your usual mask. You can't bring yourself to plaster a smile on your face, to go about your day, to joke and laugh with your friends. You have barely enough energy to roll over in bed, let alone do anything else. But you can’t sleep. All you can do is lie in bed, with everything I’ve just said going round and round in your head.

You want to socialise, you want to ‘snap out of it’. But you can’t bring yourself to talk to anyone. You don’t want to put your problems on them. You don’t want to bring them down. You don’t want to be a burden. Yet locking yourself away doesn't help. It's a vicious circle.

So all you can do is lie there, hoping that when you do eventually manage to get to sleep, you’ll wake up and the dark cloud will have lifted.

Sometimes

I have good days and bad days. A lot of the time, the reason why I'm having a bad day is because of him and what he did to me. I find myself lost in memories, overcome by anger etc. However, sometimes; a bad day is just a bad day. Not everything in my life is linked to him. Sometimes I can't sleep and I have no idea why. Sometimes I'm in a bad mood and it has nothing whatsoever to do with him.

My parents are just discovering this. Lately, a lot of times when I have been feeling down it has been because of him. My parents know that. They see my pain and it hurts them. So when I was in a bad mood the other day, they asked me why, they asked me to talk to them. I told them I didn't know why, that I was just in a bad mood, that I was tired etc. They, of course, didn't believe me. They sat me down for a chat and told me I could tell them anything. I told them that I know (I lucked out with my parents, they're pretty awesome), but that I was just tired and there was nothing more to it than that.

Which of course, they didn't believe.

Sometimes, a bad mood (or a bad day, or being tired), is just a bad mood.

Now, moving on. I've started smoking again. I had quit for over 3 months. Then I started again a few weeks ago. I was feeling down and stressed (and this time it was because of him), and I went out and bought a packet of cigarettes. It felt so good.

I don't want to be a smoker all my life. But at the minute there is so much uncertainty in my life - will this or won't this go to trial, will he get away with what he did, will he stop haunting my dreams etc. Smoking is a coping mechanism. Probably not a great coping mechanism, but it's better than self-harming, or making myself sick, or starving myself. All of which I used to do. It seemed like the lesser of the evils.

Me