My Life

It’s been some time since I last wrote anything. I had gotten to a point where I was feeling much better and things were going well. When I get like that I tend to want to pretend I don’t have a mental illness at all. I didn’t write anything because I didn’t want to remind myself that I’m not the same as everyone else. 

Because I am in a good place with life my therapist has suggested I try doing ERT (exposure reactive therapy.) On Tuesday I went in for my session and did a sort of trial run of what it would be like. In ERT you explain, in as much detail as possible, what happened during a specific traumatic event. You speak as though you are there currently. You think about the smells and sounds and feelings. Everything. Very explicitly. During this you record yourself so that later you can play it over and over to yourself, to desensitize your mind to these events. During the very next session you retell the story again, but change certain aspects so that you get away safely. Somehow this is supposed to help. I really hope it does.

So Tuesday I went in but couldn’t go through with the whole thing, I was too scared. We did a trial run where I tried talking about different traumatic events without recording anything, just to get used to being detailed and talking about it. This was so difficult for me. I had to stop and tell my therapist that I couldn’t keep talking about it. Since that therapy session my anxiety has spiked and all the progress I thought I made feels like it’s disappeared.  I feel so disappointed because it felt so good to feel OK. I haven’t even begun the actual treatment. 

Even though I am very scared I will continue on with the ERT. I need something to work and I will try anything. I just want to feel normal. I want to feel like I can hold down a job no problem. Like I can go to the store and park in the parking lot without fear that someone will rape me if I park too far from the front door. When I am walking outside and I see a man also walking outside I get scared. I don’t want to feel like that anymore. I’m tired and my body is tired and my mind is tired, but it just keeps attacking. I know things are not great when I begin thinking that things would be easier if I could just die in my sleep. I don’t want to kill myself, I’m not at that point and I haven’t been for years, but I just don’t want to feel like a burden anymore. 

I want to feel like a strong, confident woman but instead I feel like a scared little girl. Part of my mind has frozen in time with each traumatic event. I wish that this wasn’t such an invisible illness because then I might shame myself a little less. I probably wouldn’t feel so ashamed if I had something visual like cancer. People can see the effects of cancer and there isn’t such a stigma around it. People understand that your’e suffering because it’s cancer. People don’t always understand that I am suffering because often times I look ok on the outside. I seem well put together. On the inside I’m dying. It’s not a choice to feel like this. It’s like being attacked by something you can’t escape from but only you can see it. 

Recently my mother and I had a falling out. We’ve never had an easy relationship. She and I are just different. It’s never been the kind of friendly relationship like they seem to have in The Gilmore Girls. It’s always been a struggle. After going through some therapy and realizing a need for me to set some boundaries with my mom I asked her for some space from talking and hanging out, just for a bit, while I get my life sorted. I did it in an email. I should have called. I was scared. I still should have called.

I knew the reaction would be explosive. I knew she wouldn’t understand that this isn’t a punishment of some kind. 

She called me, I knew she would. When we talked on the phone some very hurtful things were said by my mother to me and about me and my past. I mean, I knew it was going to be hard, but I didn’t expect this level of anger from her. There was a lot of shouting and painful statements and then it was over. I got several emails from her trying to further prove why I was the bad guy here, but no more calls. 

The whole thing was very surreal. 

I haven’t written in a while. It’s been a difficult few weeks and when my anxiety feels overwhelming it’s hard to write. I have PMDD, Pre Menstrual Dysphoric Disorder. Basically it means that about 3 weeks before my period begins my anxiety gets a lot worse and I feel like a failure and find everyday difficult. There is an overwhelming feeling that my life is over and I am going to die because I am worthless. Put that on top of the PTSD and GAD and you understand how I feel most of the month.  Sometimes I just sleep all day. It’s like having an angel and a devil on each respective shoulder. One tells you that this is just my brain overwhelming itself with hormones, the other tells me that I fucking suck and it’s all real. Obviously I now know this isn’t the case, that it’s PMDD. It is still difficult to handle .It’s a constant battle, but I am winning. In the past, I didn’t know this was happening to me, I just thought I was fucking crazy. It’s good to know that I’m going to be ok. I wish that I could find a way to avoid this all together, but the medications that I’ve tried have all been unsuccessful. I do get about one good week out of the month, and hope that eventually I will have all good weeks. My husband is very supportive and that makes things feel better. 

I have only recently been sharing my story with others publicly. I have been raped 3 times and have had people attempt to rape me and have been sexually assaulted several times separate to those rapes. In the short time I have been speaking out I have had multiple people write to me to tell me to shut up about it. I even had someone tell me to go fuck myself. These are part of the reason I will continue to speak out. We cannot sweep rape under the rug. It isn’t something to joke about or to feel shame over. It was not my choice and I will not be made to feel shame. So many men and women suffer alone because they have no support or feel that it is somehow their fault. That was what I thought for a very long time. I thought that because I had been drinking, or because I wore a short skirt, or didn’t scream out, that it was my fault. I am now 30, almost 31 and only now am I coming to the realization that it is not my fault, I am not to blame. 

Support those that come to you with their pain, don’t shame them or shut them up. We need your support. I have a wonderful support system for the most part, but even my own mother wouldn’t believe me when I told her that as a child I had been raped. She says I must be remembering it incorrectly. This is not the case. When I told her I had been raped as a preteen she was mad that I hadn’t told her for so many years. She remembers and chooses to believe what makes her conscience feel OK. I know she loves me but she does not support me. Be there for your loved ones, your family and friends. Believe them when they tell you something horrific has happened. Love them out loud and support them with everything you say, to them and to others. 

It makes me sad that others feel the need to shame me for telling people my truth. We live with this bizarre rape culture that seems so archaic in 2017. I wonder why things are still hushed up and why people think that it should be something no one speaks of. Only by speaking up are we able to start effecting change in our societies. I will take every beating and every slur and use it as fuel to my fire. I will always speak up for myself and others who have suffered. Rape is not ok. It will never be ok. Nothing will change with silence. No one can silence me now that I know my worth. I will be here for others who need someone to be strong for them. I am a warrior and I will be a warrior until my last dying breath.

So this is something new that I’m trying out. Blogging. Specifically I want to blog about my life, my PTSD recovery, my mental health journey and fashion! 

I suppose first I should introduce myself. My name is Elyse Hall. Currently I am 30 years old.  I am married to the most supportive and loving husband. He truly is my soul mate! I love fashion, it provides a wonderful way for me to feel good about myself. Even on days I feel bad I try to fix myself up because it never fails to make me feel better about myself, even if I only wear the outfit for two hours :) I also love My Little Pony. I find that the show is extremely therapeutic and just wonderful!  

Now for the less fun stuff. I have PTSD, PMDD, OCD, GAD and Panic Disorder. Sound fun, right? Totally. I was raped on three separate occasions, beginning at at a very young age. I was 6. So I have been living with PTSD for most all of my life. I never told anyone until I was 18 and haven’t dealt with it very well. I was doing a lot of drugs and drinking too much for a long time, trying to make it all disappear. It only made things worse over time. I didn’t want to talk about it, so I bottled all of my feeling and memories away, which just led to self shaming and further destruction. I’ve attempted suicide multiple times. Thankfully, they were unsuccessful. I have been in several emotionally abusive relationships and generally had a very poor view of myself. I am now 30, almost 31 and it is just now that I am really seeking help for my problems. I am finally breaking free of these chains!I’ve finally found a psychologist and a psychiatrist that know what they are doing and it has been so amazingly helpful. 

I now have an intense passion to try and share my story in hopes of inspiring others and end the stigma that surrounds mental illness. 

In future posts I will continue to share a more in-depth look at my own journey through the shit that comes with having mental illnesses, as well as sprinkling in some fashion and MLP for fun ;) I hope that through sharing my own journey others will feel less alone.