Mental Injury? or Torture?

Today I bring you an interesting discussion from Lisa’s journal. No one can ever know what another person is feeling but this comes close to telling us.

I fucking knew I wasn’t mentally ill. Why do they have to keep testing me time and time and time again. Every assessment comes back the same – “no predisposition to mental illness”, and “severe depression and anxiety as a result of situations beyond her control”.

Yes we know that. It is all Candi’s fault. No doubt about it, no need to keep saying it – professionals all agree. She caused a mental injury when she did what she did. It was an extremely traumatic event and one which I couldn’t cope with, and one in which I displayed perfectly normal reactions. Yep! Got it! She’s the c**t that caused this. I could have told them that time and time again – in fact I think I have but they can only deal with my situation and not hers. I have to suffer day in day out whilst she roams round like cock of the walk, chalking another destroyed life up on the bed post.

We also know that it was made ten times worse by Lucie. People like to give her a little compassion here because she is blind but when did that affect her ability to think? Just because you can’t see something doesn’t mean you don’t understand. She knew I was in total crisis and she chose to walk away. Just as guilty.

So the facts are that I don’t have a mental health illness, what I have is a mental health injury caused by Candi and Lucie, and before some copper wants to come along and say thats malicious or defamation – it was the conclusion of two psychiatrists who have put it in their reports. It can be proved!

So whats mental injury – well its a little more horrific than a mental illness. Mental Illness is something that you generally have most of your life and you learn to deal with. Mental Injury is something that is brought on suddenly and you have no warning or no coping mechanism. Because you are then left in a situation that can’t be changed, the trauma continues on a day in day out basis.

For example – if you lose your legs in an accident then the doctor cant just stick them back on and it all be ok. The trauma of having no legs is there everyday. False limbs may be available at some point in the future but actually they only go so far as to making life passable.

Mental Injury cannot be put back together and it all be ok.

How do you cope with the fact that the first thing you think of every morning is fuck I wish I was dead.?

How do you cope when you can’t stand the sun? or the rain? or a thunderstorm? or the wind? In fact you can only just about cope when you are in total darkness?

How do you cope when you can’t hear a dog bark? a child playing? any music playing?

How do you cope when you can’t walk down the street? go into a shop? buy a pint of milk?

How do you cope when you can’t have anyone anywhere near you? Can’t come in my house? You can’t be in your house? Can’t touch you? Can’t comfort you?

How do you cope when you can’t shower? can’t do any washing? can’t cook? can’t make a cup of tea?

All of these things and much more are triggers. Every single aspect of life is a trigger until you find yourself sat in a dark room with all the curtains closed all day and all night. That’s the only time you’re safe but the thoughts are still there in your head. They never leave you.

Mental Injury causes physical pain as well. The pain in your chest, in your stomach, in your head. You can’t breathe and can feel your heart pounding against your rib cage. Your legs no longer carry you, your body no longer feels your own but it hurts. It hurts so much.

How long does this last I hear you ask – simple, all day! All day and all night. The escape is to take a sleeping pill, and as you wake from that one you take the next.

But that is no life.

I was happy once. I had the best children that I was so proud of. I loved my house, I loved my business and I loved my life.

They caused this to happen. This is what they made me to be. I can’t help but be bitter, and whilst I love them with all my heart I can’t help but hope that in the days ahead of them they suffer too.

They had the choice to do what they did, and they had the choice to change it. This is their choice. This is their memory of a mother that loved them beyond everything else.

More from the Journals another time, until next time people, look after each other. One of us wont be here tomorrow. God bless x


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