I feel like I’ve been a selfish friend lately. My conversations still mildly punctuated with something I am still trying to twist into a positive when it’s clearly over, but it’s how I’ve been trying to stop myself from falling off. 3 years ago I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and PTSD. Moving home so soon has had me reliving my trauma everyday, sometimes multiple times a day and it is slowly chipping away at everything I’ve worked for. It breaks my heart that so many women in my family have been sexually assaulted. It makes me angry that none of us were immune to these things. I don’t want to lose myself again and it’s been difficult without a support system. Living in a society doused with rape jokes doesn’t make it easy either. I just feel infinitesimally small and sad curled up in this bed trying to stop things from replaying again and again and again..