Now The Clock Is Running... in Chapter 9 : Oil Above Water

So I finally got an appointment for the rape counselling. Tomorrow. 12pm. It’s your bog standard talking therapy. NLP is proving fairly effective, which has been a pleasant surprise but Dr S feels that doubling the Sertraline will also be beneficial. Niamh is going to redo my depression scores on Friday and see what the progress is looking like.

Mundy and I went out on Saturday night, and Drunk Kit came out to play, now Mundy is telling Emma (MY BEST FRIEND) that she wants a proper, full on relationship, she’s in love with me but that she needs to move on because I clearly don’t feel the same about her. The alarm bells are screaming in my head as it has all the same feels as the Elle Era did, and we all remember how that went.

I feel like everytime I take a step forward, that I get dragged back about 18 steps. I’d quite like to just hole up now, lock all the doors and not be around people anymore. I’m so fed up of everyone trying to bring me down, keep me down. Trying to drown me in their despair. I can’t go on like this. I want to be a person again, but people want to keep me locked up, a prisoner of their expectations of me. I’m so tired of having to fight to be myself.

Today we had a class on Feminism, I’ve never been so disheartened. Hearing a class of white women voice their privilige; it’s crushing. Don’t get me wrong, good for them that they have such privilige but to have such privilige and take it for advantage just leaves me feeling so deflated at the lack of progress in society’s attitudes and beliefs. I despair for the future that awaits my children, if we’re not going backwards then we’re very much stagnating. When they are older and understand, I will apologise to them for bringing them in to such a horrible world. I just hope they will one day forgive me.