Most times sleeping is hard for me. I’m quite glad to receive at least four or five hours a night. I’ve tried sleeping pills, but one gets quickly used to them so that they don’t work properly anymore, and to be honest, sleep is not very relaxing if drug-indicated, right? I’ve even tried antidepressants, but for some years now, I do no longer take anything to make me “happy” or “feel better”, because actually all of these pills just made me feel myself less. And as I don’t always feel myself, it was no help at all.
When I can’t sleep, I don’t manage to get up and do whatever. I mean, I could watch T.V. or read or bake or I don’t know, but I just lay there in bed, listening to John breathing and most of the times I’m not able to move. Well, being unable to move is part of my PTSD. I just freeze. It’s like my mind and body are not connected, so that my thoughts can’t get my body moving. Sometimes I feel like under water or ice. As soon as John moves or the clock rings, I can move again. Just like I’m spellbound or whatever.
Most times when I lay in bed frozen, my thoughts begin to wander. I always try to think of normal things such as my chores, work, a conversation I recently had. But most of the times, I fail. Sooner or later my thoughts turn to my father and what he did, which really doesn’t help. Last night I was back in a situation when he sat upon my chest and kept slapping my face, as it seemed to me, for hours. Just that monotonous SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP, forever. I remember trying to be not there, not in my body, but the pain did not end. SLAP SLAP SLAP, like a dull sort of music, the rhythm of my life.
I remembered watching a movie on T.V., as a kid. I don’t recall the movie at all, but I do recall a single scene: men in rows, rowing a boat, and a controller walking in between them, hitting those who were exhausted with a whip. I did not feel sorry for them. I felt anger and pure horniness. So I guess it’s not remarkable sex/masturbation is a great help for me in overcoming feelings of anger and frustration. Sometimes, when I lay awake in bed, I masturbate, and afterwards, I feel relaxed for perhaps a minute. Sometimes I do not, then I start again, hoping for relief. Actually, that’s a way to survive another night, either. In case I’m not locked up.
Today is one of “those” days. I’m exhausted and tired, but I don’t dare laying down and I fear the night that will come, with me being awake and frozen. There’s no instant help for that, I can only try again and again, talk it over with my husband and my therapist and be patient with myself. But I really hate how much he still abuses me, day by day and night by night. Not even in my dreams I have some peace and quiet.