Don't Panic

I am less panic-stricken since being pit on a maintenance dose of Buspar and Clonazepam. So that is nice.

I am doing everything I can to move on with my life, I really am. I would be lying if I said that I don't have moments of fear, rage, humiliation, shame, disgust...all of that. I do. I have such deeply-seated rage that our district attorney, whose salary I pay with my taxes, can say that virtually every form of acquaintance rape is a 'he said/she said' issue that juries don't 'buy'. There is nothing -- nothing -- that will ever heal that rage.

But I suppose that if that's the logic, I now have carte blanche to myself rape and debase some acquaintance, so don't say that I didn't warn you in advance.

Yes, I am joking and being a bitch. Humour is the only weapon I have. That, and a lot of Clonazepam.

It is hard for me to talk about, or write about, how I feel. I suppose it is easier for me to admit to fear than rage, and easier again to admit to rage than jealousy or envy.

Yes. Covetous envy. I has it.

I keep thinking, besides blaming myself in the first place, that none of this would have happened if I were beautiful. This is how my mind works, and if I can't be honest about it here, I have nowhere on Earth where I can be honest. I have always envied pretty girls, but now even more so because of the illogical thoughts that tell me that, were I beautiful, I would have been more valuable, too valuable to injure, or at the very least, I would have someone who would have made it such that this whole situation was never an event in the first place.

And hate. I have hate. It is for myself. Like the parable of the frog and the scorpion, a predator is a predator is a predator. No surprise there. What *is* surprising is how stupid *I* am. My stupidity renders ridiculous any claim to sympathy, pity, or help. It's not coming, and I do not deserve it anyway. That hurts, but it is the cold, hard truth.

And yes, I think of others, like Leah Peebles, and I understand the rage. As beautiful as she is, I would have thought she would have help, get help...something. But her case was dropped by the DA also. I feel for the rage, the need to just be numb anymore. I understand. I understand the desire to just let the Earth swallow you up.

I have days where I am productive, and days where I am less than so. Today is one of those 'less than' days. I try to distract myself, but it is hard some days. I will not hide and hate myself forever; I do not know when it will end, but it will. All I can do is push it out of my mind like I have been doing. Hopefully soon this will become permanent.

I left Eviljob early today because of the need to hide. I can't explain this need to hide; it is simply irrational. Possibly things will get better as I leave this area and mice on with my life. Everyone says, 'move on, move on...'. I am trying to. I really am.

So I am self-indulgent sometimes, and I hide. I wish there were someone to apologise to for this, but there is only myself.

I promise that I will try to post something more upbeat next time. I really promise that I will try. I guess my always having compartmentalised everything in my life has helped as far as a survival strategy.

Bye for now. I'm sorry to have been depressing.






- Posted using SomeBlogApp that I don't know how to use. o_O