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Tomorrow I will meet with my therapist again for the hundredth or so time. I've been seeing this woman for over a year, only divulging what I feel are exemplified "normal" life problems. Tomorrow will be different however. Tomorrow I've decided it's time to face some things I've kept locked away for many years. Just the thought of actually uttering the words to a new person makes me physically ill.
After I was raped in high school, only my best friend and three others knew. That's the way it had stayed for many years. A few relationships proved enough for me to open up about what had happened, but even then I tried my hardest to not have to go into much detail.
I have done a brilliant job of burying the whole ordeal until recently. Now however I find myself waking up from nightmares so real I'm terrified all over again. My fight or flight instinct in overdrive.
I'm not sure why I wrote this. I think it's basically my practice speech, so I don't freeze trying to start the conversation. There's an innate possibility I still will, but who knows. Thanks for being my buffer ether.
everything anyone tells you is fair game to spread about. and you somehow manage to get us all to trust you, to spill our deepest darkest secrets, our fears and insecurities, even as you laughingly relate the secrets and insecurities of other people.
I never thought about this until now but--why did you tell me your secrets? It's not like I'm not trustworthy, but you couldn't have known that at the time. Was it faith? Was it convenience? Was it just so you would stay awake? We know so much about each other, and yet I barely know you at all. You've seen me at my lowest point, but in all fairness, you were my lowest point. I don't know if you think you know me, but you're probably wrong.