long time no see! guess what!

so ive only really come on tumblr the last few years to vent, occasionally reblog a ton of pretty stuff, and then vent again. im still dealing with some stuff i would vent about on here, but one thing that needed to change was my bedroom. a lot of stuff has happened in there, some of my worst nights of my life so far, and while i can’t move out of it yet, im completely redoing it. ive been peeling off wallpaper nonstop where i had written all of these sad things over the years from my melodramatic middle school years of turmoil, through high school when stuff started getting really dangerous and unhealthy for me. it feels really cathartic and satisfying peeling it off after 12 years of staring at it and all of the memories etched into it. and i took down my bed from the loft i had it on and im going to sleep closer to the ground and away from the ceiling i used to gaze so hopelessly into every night back then. i really hope this helps reframe my mind state and edge me closer down the track of healing from all this pain.

 i was talking to my therapist the other day about how i want to start specific therapy for my trauma, and she asked what my goal was. i said to stop dreaming of my abuser and to get over what happened/not think of it anymore or have it follow me all these years. she said the therapy can’t fix that and while it feels immature to say, it made me so angry to hear. she said the trauma therapy will help me to cope with it, not be as overwhelmed and to have my brain process it as a memory and store it properly so i dont have panic attacks and less nightmares about it. which sounds great, but i thought that in the end i could be treated to get over it and im just so angry now. because it took me so long to realize what happened was truly traumatic and not just unfortunate, and now that ive come to terms with it, im being told that because it really is trauma, i can’t ever fully ‘get over it’. its like a tumor. that can be treated and soothed and minimized and removed the way trauma ultimately gets stored as a real memory, but theres scar tissue still there. theres still an imprint theres still a mark and a memory of pain and now i have to accept that i have to deal with that forever. im angry at my vulnerable, younger self for allowing this severe pain to be inflicted on me, and angry at mysel ffor being angry at my younger self because i know the whole point is that iw as taken advantage of and it’s not my fault, but it still feels like my fault so much of the time you know? i don’t know. im going to peel off more wallpaper.