TW depression, self harm, abuse

Over the past 9 months I've been starting to unpack and deal with my childhood sexual and physical abuse in earnest for the first time. It's been horribly difficult, but I knew it would be since I've tried to take a few stabs at it in the past, only to have failed or find out that, perhaps, I was simply unready.

This week in my therapy appointment I opened up about feeling perpetually angry for the past few month. It's exhausting and, frankly, a bit scary because aside from outbursts of anger here and there, I've never felt this type of prolonged and smoldering anger before. Then my therapist pointed out something that I guess I'd never considered for myself before, but makes sense. I'm grieving. And I'm in the anger stage.

I wish I knew when it would be over. I just want this all to be over. I don't like feeling like this. It also seems so pointless. It's not like my anger can really effectively be directed at anyone or anything or change anything. It's all too late. Honestly, it's just making me feel even more helpless and it's certainly beginning to wear on my husband. I've been short with him and mean. Nothing he can do is "right." I wish I could just shut it off. The sad thing is, I am going back on old ways to mute my pain and stuff my feelings. My ED is in full swing and I've lost almost 10 lbs since mid july. Yesterday I burned myself. I feel like I'm imploding and exploding all at the same time.


I wish this wasn't such a "process" - I feel like I could handle this a bit better if there was a definitive end in sight.

I don't know, I guess I've also just been a bit triggered from all of the talk of abuse, in all of its forms, recently here, online in general, and in real life. Why do people do this to each other, to the most vulnerable? It's maddening. I wish I could do something to stop this from happening to others but I'm stuck in my own head and my own house literally killing myself little by little. I'm coming to the realization that I'm almost 30 and I'm a fucking mess. I remember fantasizing about when I'd be an adult as a kid and I'd be strong and independent and I'd get out and nothing and no one would hurt me. I feel like I've let child me down again, because that isn't me. I feel like I'm barely better than that same stupid, silent, little kid I was back then. Except now the only one hurting me is me.