Yeah, I'm still pissed

    I've been told by one of my therapists, that I still suffer from PTSD. I didn't realize it, until I saw my ex a few months ago for the first time since the rape. I was pissed. I'm still pissed. I saw the bastard while I was working. He wasn't supposed to be there. He doesn't even live here. But there he was. I sensed him before I saw him, then I broke down. I tried to stay strong, but I couldn't. I had a full panic attack in the back of the restaurant, with sobbing, horrifying flashbacks for two hours. I wasn't safe anymore. He saw me. He knew where I worked. I hate that. I felt safe, and now I don't. You know what else? Now I have been having nightmares ever since. I've had to get on an anti-depressant and sleeping pills. I've had to get a prescription for Xanax for the freak outs. I've been reading articles on how to help my PTSD symptoms because it doesn't seem to be getting better.
   And guess what. I am pissed. It will be 8 years this year, and I still struggle. I still suffer. My safe feeling is gone. My fear is back. My nightmares are back. My flashbacks are back. And I will probably have to go back to therapy, because I don't know how to feel safe again. My conscious mind has been trying to numb out my feelings, then they come out at night from my subconscious in my sleep, and sometimes during the day. I will feel my chest collapsing, I feel like I can't breathe. I have to calm myself down daily from a panic attack. At least I've had years of practice.
   One of my therapists told me this would happen, that I would be in and out of feeling fine to not feeling fine, that I would see him again, or go somewhere that would trigger it. I knew I would see him again, and there was nothing that could have prepared me for it, even though I felt like I was ready. I was not ready, and I wish I could have punched him in the face. But what's done is done. He invaded my safe space, and now what? I have to deal with the mental anguish of someone being a selfish psycho ass hole and raping me and trying to kidnap me. Screw that guy. I got over it before, and I can again.
    I've said this many times, but I talk openly about these things, because if I can help one person going through this to help them not feel alone, it's all worth it. It's worth the openness and vulnerability. And when I write about it, and it's out for everyone to see, I don't feel so alone either. And I feel a little bit more in control of what has happened to me. It's okay to be weak sometimes, it's normal.