Im having a PTSD episode as I write this. I don’t know what happened. I was doing so well but but the last three days have been awful.
The most visible physical symptom is that I’m crying all the time.
I’m having waves of anxiety where it’s hard to breathe and it feels like my heart is going to explode.
I’ve just messaged my friend (my guardian angel). I hate worrying him, he’s stressed enough as it is as he is touring at the moment and it’s been a rough one for him.
He’s going to ring me back in an hour or so. I just have to wait.
He’s just sent me a link to a song On YouTube, Lola by the Kinks , because we would listen to that song when we were sixteen and it always makes me smile.
I’m calming down a little bit but the tears are still streaming down my face as I write. I don’t think it’s helping but I’m going to keep writing.
I look over to my little man, Leo who is sleeping beside me on the sofa. He’s making funny noises and I think he’s having a nightmare.
Apart from Leo and I, the house is empty.
As I sit here weeping uncontrollably, I’m recognising that yes I have PTSD but I’m also depressed and feeling so alone right now. I wish I had a boyfriend who loves me and cares for me.
I want to be in love with someone with the security that nothing bad is going to happen.
I want to feel safe but I’m asking too much because for me, feeling safe is to be in a loving relationship. Maybe this is part of my Iranian upbringing but I want to be held every night, to feel cherished and looked after by a man who loves me, and I love him back.
All I feel now is emotional turmoil, anguish and heart ache from what is missing from my life.
What’s worse is the that deep down I think I’m going to be alone forever.
I’m remortgaging my house to pay for cosmetic work to be done on my teeth and face. Im doing this because the last time I was in a committed relationship, I was made to feel like I was ugly and worthless.
If I’m honest, I really don’t think I will ever find what I’m looking for. I’ll never be truly happy and in love.
I can distract myself with appointments and forking out to fix my teeth and my face. I can lose more weight and feel prettier than I do right now but what does it matter?
I’ve been broken far too many times.
I’m damaged beyond repair.