Chapter One

So, one month no social media, grayscale screen on my phone, no tv in bed and no podcasts. 

It’s pretty hard to remove technology completely from our lives, but how ingrained is it in your day to day? I found myself not knowing who’s opinions I had and feeling like days were blurring by me. 

Spending more time in silence, no musical distractions or podcasts to focus on while I tuned out my present tasks, I found it left me feeling as if there were more hours in the day. 

I’ve felt a little more connected, a little less depressed and way more aware. 

But take this with a grain of salt. 

I also removed myself from these things so that I could focus - for the first time - on me. What’s really in my mind. 

And that’s a scary place, one that I haven’t been ready to explore until now (with the help of a therapist). 

Trauma has affected me in multiple parts of my life. 

Let’s get the big one - that I haven’t spoken about much - out of the way. 

I was raped when I was in my early twenties. 

It was while I was drinking, although, and I shouldn’t need to add this in but few it may be worth saying. I really had barely been that night. 

I was drugged, and had no memories of the experience except for waking up knowing something was wrong. 

This was later confirmed by someone I know who said the person who did it took pictures of me. 

I got that revelation via text message and nearly threw up. I still vividly remember where I was standing and how it felt. 

Because I hadn’t gone to the police, I had no real evidence to speak of, and the first people who I told first asked how drunk I was, I never reported. 

Until therapy I didn’t realize how much I’d carried this with me, the shame of not reporting the piece of garbage to the police and pressing charges. 

I grew up in a house of strong women and I felt I had let them down somehow by not charging him. So I didn’t tell them, I never told my sister or my mom. A few close friends know and other than that I’ve kept this very secret. 

So, that coupled with a myriad of other events, big and small, had been slowly building inside of me. 

One thing she commented on during our early sessions is that I am a great survivor. I know how to put my head down, push through something awful and keep going. But that isn’t the same as confronting what the feelings are to truly deal with them or really living my life. 

That was a rather quick realization I had, uncontrollably crying about just how unfair I have truly felt my life has been, it felt self indulgent but good to put these things into words. I prefaced this in the session by saying how stupid I feel that I think this. I know there are people with it much worse than me. But, a big part of what therapy helped me understand is that my experience of things is my own, without any measurement or preface by anyone else’s lives or experiences. 

So, this month has been chapter one. 

Finally getting to meet myself - in a way, facing my fear of what really goes through my mind when I have nothing to drown out the thoughts I have.