I lied.

When I said I was strong.

When I said I was ok.

When I said I was taking back control.

It was a lie.

I want to be strong for the people who love me. I want to be ok because they want it so badly for me. I want to be normal for them. But it is a lie.

What happened to me is just as real right now as it was two months ago.

And even though people around me move on, stop talking about it, and stop asking questions, it is just as much a part of my everyday life as it was.

It isn’t just something that happened to me….it’s a part of who I am and who I have become.

I am afraid people are tired of my tears, not because they don’t love me, but because they do. They want to believe I am happy, that I am better, that I am strong.

And so I fight, more for them then for myself.

I fight and smile and say I am strong when I know it is a lie.

And I cant do it anymore.

I just can’t.

And there is nothing anyone can say to make it better. I dont understand why this is all happening or when it will stop. It is beoynd reason and explaination. There is no explanation, no words, no way to make sense of any of this or a way to make it right.

It doesnt change anything.

This week I saw him, and everything came to a screeching halt.

I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t move.

I felt powerless all over again.

Then I willed myself to shift gears and keep driving. I lied to myself and said it didn’t matter and I was strong, but I wasn’t.

This week I came home from work and the door was unlocked. I walked inside and heard noise coming from the downstairs bathroom.

I ran out of the house and called Brian and Lisa to come to my house and make sure someone wasn’t in it.

I stood in my backyard for ten minutes and tried to convince myself not to panic and that I was safe.

And when Brian and Lisa came over and checked my house (my dog was locked in the bathroom) I didn’t panic.

I smiled and thanked them and let them go and lied to myself and to them and said it was ok even though I was terrified and I wanted them to stay.

This week a cop that was called to my house said that my ex finace was going to kill me or get caught trying. He said he has worked countless cases like mine, and they all have the same ending.

I lied to myself and to him and said that I was ok, that I was strong, that I was different then all those other woman, even though I know I am not.

This week I got into fights with the people I am closest to. And I was left feeling even more alone, more discouraged, and more afraid then before.

And then I lied to both myself and to them, and said it was ok and that I felt better, even though I was terrified I was losing them and just wanted and needed reassurance...

This week I walked into the kitchen as my sister called me to make sure everything was ok, and while she was on the phone someone knocked on the back door.

I screamed.

I paniced.

I physically, emotionally, and mentally flashed back to what had happened in that spot, while I was on the phone, two months ago.

It was like no time had passed.

I could see him, I could smell him, I could feel him even though I was all alone in the kitchen.

Erica yelled into the phone to see why I had screamed, and Steve yelled at the back door that it was ok, it was just him.

And I stood frozen and didn’t answer either of them.

It was so so real to me. And when I finally did open the door I didn’t know how to explain to Erica and Steve what exactly happened.

Because to them it was just someone knocking on the backdoor while I was in the kitchen on the phone.

And even though they understand that I am afraid, they cant understand that is so so much more real then just fear.

Its like I re-experience it all over again.

So I smiled and lied to myself and to them and said it wasn’t a big deal and then I went and took and shower and cried.

This week I went on dates with different boys. Who were amazing and sweet. And I even had a good time.

But the truth is I lied to myself and to others and said I was ok, and I was moving on with my life, when the truth is I am terrified at the idea of being with someone, allowing them in, and being intimate.

And I am so so afraid I will always feel like this.

This week Erica yelled at me for not being completely honest with everyone.

She said I only tell parts of the story that I feel comfortable with, and people close to me never really know exactly what is happening with me.

Which is true. I lie to them and I lie to myself.

The truth is it was actually a really really hard week, and as much as I have tried to seem strong, and normal, and in control, it is a lie.

I should be better. I shouldn’t feel like this. I should move on.

But I cant.

People tell me they worry about me, that they think fear is controlling me, and its true.

But it is so so so real to me.

I never know what will bring the fear back.

Sometimes it doesn’t make sense to anyone but me.

I cant explain why I feel afraid, or sad, or alone.

Sometimes it is a word, or the way someone says it.

Sometimes it is a smell.

Or a knock at the door.

Or a car that looks like his.

It can be anything, and the memories come flooding back.

And they aren’t just memories. I feel everything all over again. I relive that night.

And it doesn’t get any easier.

Maybe if I just had a moment to breathe… to relax… but when someone pounds on my door or tries to get into my house or throws a brick through my window or I see him the fear is just as real, just as present. And that’s my reality.

Maybe someone else could be stronger.

Maybe they could handle all this and be ok. But it too much, too often, for me. It just never stops.

This week Amy asked me if I was suicidal. And I said no. And then I turned on the shower and cried. Bececause I lied.

I am not ok, I am not strong, and I am not taking control.

I am afraid.

I do feel out of control.

And most of all, I feel alone…

I want to be strong for the people who love me, but I cant do this anymore.

I just cant do this anymore…..

And I am sorry….