This week has been the worst in a while. I am in week 4of CPT. I am working 3 part time jobs to make ends meet as a single mom. I also volunteer some time as an editor and am taking two graduate classes.
If I were an alcoholic or on drugs, people would be right there with a program, sympathy, empathy, some kind of words of encouragement or helping hand. My addiction is filling my schedule and helping everyone else so I don't have the time or energy for flashbacks and nightmares. I numb myself with work and helping others. There is no 12-step program for that addiction. People don't look at me with the sympathy drink or drug addicts get. People respond to me with, "Are you nuts?" As a matter of fact, I am. I am also struggling to support my family.
I know I am in a bad place in my head. I requested Cognitive Processing Therapy would help me deal with the aftermath of being raped twice while in the Army. Now in week 4, I wonder what I was thinking and why does VA jump all over this therapy as a cure. For the first time in years I have thought that death would be so much easier. Suicide is not an option for me, but death seems so inviting and easier than what is in my head.
I look to the scars on my arms and wonder if I could explain new ones. while I don't mind being alone, it is a rare treat for me, I feel completely lonely. I see people with their friends and loved ones, particularly the ones who are in each other's arms for love and comfort and I die a little inside. Yes, I can find that comfort easily for a few minutes with some stranger or friend, but it is not the same as the nurturing and lasting love and understanding I long for and crave.
I am frustrated and angry because I was not always like this. Living with PTSD, I had my down days, but most were good days with at least one thing I could find to be grateful for. Since starting CPT, there are no good days. There are days filled with as much as I can pack in them to not feel the emptiness and loneliness and pain.