June 8, 2015:

Today, after church, I experienced a bunch of flashbacks. It’s only my fault, I realize. I am responsible. But there were a bunch of events, which led to a feeling of panic. I feel it developed from a conversation I had with a woman asking for money on the street. She told me I should keep to myself my experiences. She meant this in a positive way. In the sense that she knew people wouldn’t be able to understand. I guess I felt like I was being judged for my experiences. I didn’t really say anything to anyone but was probably acting out. In any case, I am sorry. It’s a lot to deal with processing the trauma I have experienced and released this last week at POC. Was having mild suicidal thoughts today. I still feel like I am dealing with a lot of stuff from last week. It’s only Monday and I’m still not really sleeping well. It’s no excuse to feel like this though. It’s easy for me to see why I would have so much difficulty in accepting love and trusting. And it’s a slow process. That’s evident from the wild ups and downs of this journal even. It’s a process of giving and receiving, slowly and as you are able. Especially after dealing with the sort of stuff I had last week. It’s not an excuse. It’s very real stuff. In any case, I always find it really beautiful that when I am feeling like this, suddenly a lot of really kind hearted people just seem to come out of the wood work. For example, I fell asleep today on the bus twice and missed my stop. No worries. I was in no hurry to get home. After the bus driver came around in Downsview, he made it clear that I was supposed to get off the bus. But I guess he understood what it’s like to miss your stop because he let me wait on the bus, saving me a walk to the terminal. At my stop, I felt piercing depression. I walked towards a tree and just lay down next to it. A second later, I picked myself up and kept going. When I was walking onto my street, I guess I was having a difficult time. A car stopped and a lovely woman in the car asked me if I was alright. I said I was okay and that I had a head injury. She asked if I knew where I lived. I wanted to assure her that I was of sound mind. Turning onto my street, she pulled up behind me on the road and asked if I wanted a ride. I told her that I lived not far but that I appreciated it. She asked my name and told me hers. I feel suicidal at times but I don’t think I would ever get to such an impulsive state to take my own life. That’s not to say that I haven’t been on the verge in the past. I just seem to have developed a lot more will. Every time, I hear the voices of remembered Scripture, feel the love of God. It was so nice today to have that small connection with the woman in the car. And very powerful, for me at least, to have her ask me my name then. We fall down. But then we get back up and we remember who we are and how valuable we are. I want people to know that when I am looking at someone for a long time, most of the time, I’m trying to gauge their reaction to me to see if they’re angry with me. It’s messed up I realize. It’s I guess a defence mechanism that I have developed in order to anticipate abusive situations or abusive people. Later though, this defence strategy would evolve for me into a way to understand others, but mostly myself. I always want to know what others are thinking of me in order that I may be able to compensate and make them happy. It used to be an issue I had surrounding shame. I’m sorry if I have offended people by looking at them for too long.