*DISCLAIMER I HAVE NOT SHARED THIS BLOG WITH MY COWORKERS OR ANY OF MY NEIGHBORS*
Well what can you tell from what I’ve been saying?
Well I’ve gone through something traumatic. I’ve had my life changed drastically. I don’t talk about it, but for some reason other people seem to know about it. Yet when I did talk about it, I was told I was making it up, I was crazy. Yet when other people talk about it, everyone seems to realize it was real. Thanks to them I’ve realized I never made it up and it was real. So I know it was real. I’ve also gone through some more traumatic things from someone breaking into my place and me hearing someone go through my bank account and calling the bank about it. It probably was traumatic for the banker too, because I’m pretty sure they threatened the banker. Desperate people do desperate things. So those things are traumatic. Constantly feeling violated and disrespected. Feeling as if you have no privacy or right to having a personal life.
You would get that I’m afraid. After all of the traumatic things that’s happened to me, it makes me afraid. I have incredible fear that I have to fight every day.
You would get that I’m very unhappy. I try to be happy. You walk around with a smile even when you’re sad inside.
I’m hurting. I’m suffering.
I have some interesting thoughts.
It also shows no one tries to help me. They just continue to do the same things that everyone else has done. They don’t recognize or ask me why I’m doing something. They just laugh or make fun of me or treat me badly. So I wonder if they would care if I had a mental break down because it’s something that will wear you down mentally, not physically.
Do I feel stalked? Yes I do. I can’t explain it. I think it has something to do with hearing someone talk about things in your place and your bank account, especially someone you’ve never invited over or know. Complete strangers discussing something they shouldn’t know about. Plus knowing someone can read your text messages or listen to your voice mail isn’t fun either. Still I wonder if someone would be so bold to try to decipher who I call. Do you know who I call? Like that one morning. I was just calling who again? Things like that. Plus there’s a name I don’t say, but everyone seems to know that name. They know exactly who I’m talking about. It’s as if someone moved near me for the purpose of whatever they might be doing. Spying on me, listening to me, etc. Yeah that sounds paranoid, but believe me I’ve had a lot of strange things happen and I wouldn’t be surprised. It just causes more trauma and pain. I almost feel tortured. I’m sure that would make a few people happy. Make sure I’m paying for some things I’m sure.
Does it mean I don’t reach out to people? Yes I do, but the problem lies in some people. Remember some people see me as trash. They see me as a nuisance. They don’t see me as a person. They avoid me. It’s as almost as they want me to fail and to disappear.
You can tell I don’t trust most of my coworkers. There are a combination of reasons. Things get all over the place. Being made fun of. Treated differently. I’m sure they’ll say it’s because of me, but not when you hit animosity right off of the bat. It’s as if they’ve been told things about me, but do they really know me. What a few do, the rest are viewed the same. Like I’ve said. I will treat them nicely and with respect, but I will always have a hard time trusting them.
So yeah. If you were a psychologist, or a counselor, I’m sure you’d give a diagnosis.
The thing is, I used to be a completely different person. I was social. I wasn’t afraid. I was happy. After that traumatic event it all changed. It made me different. No matter how hard I try to go back, I just realize it’s going to take a lot to ever be that way again. It does make you want to kill yourself. To know that something can change you and change how people see you. To know that your life will always be scrutinized. To know that no one will ever ask you anything, but will go off of what others tell them. To know why people hurt or betray you. To know why someone stabs you in the back. To know why people avoid you. To attribute every thing that happens to you, to that traumatic event. Everyone assumes. Knowing every time you wake up you wake up in the nightmare you want to forget. To know that sleep isn’t going to take it away. To feel as if someone wants to hurt you physically.
So in a nutshell I have been suffering. Some days I can handle it and others I can’t. To know it’s not an imagined suffering and to know that what happened to me did happen. Still I’m traumatized and no one will ever know how that feels. I guess that’s why I can identify with people who’ve been stalked. I’ve gone through the same things. Disbelief and despair. Just like them, I try to move on. Always waiting, always thinking, always hoping that it will be different. One day to wake up and not feel afraid. Not to always feel like you have to be on your guard. To not feel like you’re a prisoner. To have someone love you and to actually be there for you. To be able to trust again. That’s what I hope and reach for.
I pray a lot. I ask God for help because I know no one else will help me. I would hope those who I do tell believe me. People who really know me, should know when something isn’t right with me. Yet there is always that fear that they don’t.