Corinne. 21. College Student. PTSD. Survivor of 2.5 years.Self. Writing. I am an open book.
I went into public alone in a place that makes me nervous.
And I was a little hyper-vigilant but it could have been so much worse. I left and I am still intact because really cmon grocery stores aren’t that scary. They’re only scary when I’m convinced they will be there and I will see them.
Being in crowded public places, I sometimes need to see the face of everybody there. I will scan the crowd for their hair color, worried they will turn around and I will be face to face with them. I listen for their voices, hear a similar laugh, and I become anxious.
But just now I told myself…I KNOW they are not there. They are cowards. Even if I saw them they probably would avoid me.
And I survived.
I went on a drunk rant last night about how much I hate feminists.
The night before I went on a tipsy rant about how much I hate feminists.
Yay for being 21, but seriously…how do I possibly belong on Tumblr?
Step one: Boyfriend Step two: His apartment Step three: French fries & mint chocolate chip ice cream Step four: Scooby Doo, Where are You? Step five: Fritos & Cheetos
We were at a bar.
I had a few.
I rode the train home with one of his friends.
The train stopped.
There were police.
Somebody was on the train,
He had a wife and three kids back home.
He was beaten with a pipe a few stops back before he got on.
We didn’t even notice beforehand.
He was just holding his head, we thought he might have been drunk.
We waited ten, maybe twenty minutes.
He looked like he might be okay.
But he wasn’t…okay.
She & I sat silent in our seats.
We had nothing to say.
So I held her hand.
Until we came home.