It’s over a month now since I last had Prozac and I crave the numbing comfort it offered me most days. I’ve been quite ill, resulting in me losing out on 2 jobs and I have felt that drug leave me emotionally and physically more acutely than I have let on to the people who care about me. In fact I have felt it more acutely than I really care to admit even to myself.

I suppose the reason I have disguised my symptoms slightly is because life has to go on…. The clock keeps on ticking and you have to keep up with it, you can’t give in, especially if you have debts and responsibilities, you can’t fall behind and you can’t take others down with you. I’ve also found that you have a set amount of time to feel sad and then people expect you to pull your socks up – so I am…. but that was so much easier in a Prozac haze.

Flashbacks are my new enemy. As everything becomes clearer, so does the past. The mistakes I have made, the happiness I have known and lost, the many roads I should have turned down but it was just all too foggy to see which way to go. The life I have lost.

As that Prozac mist clears there is an ugly monster grinning at me – maybe the final one. His name is fear and I think we all know he has different faces and we all know at least one of those faces very well.

Of course, fear can be a good thing, it can take us through a barrier, it can be a warning. Fear can be your friend or your foe. It can paralyse you or it can make you stronger – the worst thing about it is, you just don’t know how you will react to it untill it’s there staring you in the face. It’s a game of chance and the lead up to the game is often far more terrifying than the event as it unfolds.

FEAR: Noun

An unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.

I went through my whole childhood without real fear. There was fear my homework wouldn’t be done. Fear my mum would be angry with me for my messy room. Fear I wasn’t good enough. Fear I was too fat or too ugly. But all those fears are just internal fears. I was never in any real danger, the only real danger to me, was myself and my ridiculously high expectations.

But then in my early 20’s I met a man who changed all that for good. He showed me what it is like to have external fears. Fears that were out of my control. Fear that didn’t just hurt physically but cut even deeper emotionally because I loved him so much. That’s why flashbacks are my new enemy, because even though I left him a long time ago – the effects and damage he caused are still here. He switched off a light that I’m not sure will ever light up again and he made me fear complete happiness, because for me with complete happiness comes complete terror.

I met this man 17 years ago… He was so kind, loving, fun and I don’t doubt for a minute that he loved me with all his heart. When I looked in his eyes I could see who I was and I really liked me. He made me feel magical and special. He made me feel so beautiful, sexy and feminine. I guess he made me feel loved. I thought he was my happy ever after and I felt safe….. but not for long.

He was also the monster in my faerytale because he had the worst temper. It wasn’t even a rational temper. It would spring up from nowhere. A simple, “Have a good day at work”, could mean I’d be punched 20 times. If someone looked at him in the wrong way in the street, I’d get thrown across the room later that night. If there was something he saw on TV he didn’t like, he might put a cigarette out on me. He had no hesitation in hurting me, if he was hurting.

I’m crying as I write this and it’s hard to admit I let him do those things to me but he was so sorry afterwards and I truly loved him, so I felt I just couldn’t abandon him.

I used to get confused and sad as I’d think – oh my god, is this how abused children feel? The one person I wanted to run to, who would make it all better was the same person who would punch me in the stomach to wake me up when he was drunk.

Luckily I did leave, I was able to, unlike all those poor children who suffer similar abuse…. The only reason I found the courage to leave was because after a year and a half of living on a knife’s edge, he threw my cat across the room, urinated on it and strangled me… those 3 things finally broke the spell and I escaped. I could deal with him hurting me but I couldn’t allow him to hurt a defenseless animal – I took responsibility for that and left.

Even after everything he had done to me, the day I left him I felt as if I was being split in two. I think it would have hurt less to have my arm ripped off. I truly believe part of my soul tore away from me that day. Even after the separation he still continued to attack me, but I had left and I thought I was free.

Truth is though I never really did escape. Even in his absence the effects of that time in my life still linger – and things keep flashing in to my mind without the comfort of Prozac. Things I buried for a reason, awful things I don’t want to remember. Things I hope most people will never have to face even in a film, things that have frozen my heart and kept me afraid.

I know that most victims of physical abuse will also then allow emotional abuse (well at least you are not being hit). The effects of emotional abuse, like Prozac are to diminish your true feelings so I have never truly healed because my feelings have never counted for much.

Even though it’s 15 years since i left him, I don’t even know who I am anymore and I haven’t known for a while. I am still afraid to live freely. I realise I have been brainwashed in to thinking I like or hate certain things. There are beliefs I have that I’m not even sure are mine and I still live in constant fear of what will happen if I am truly myself and live freely. I am even afriad of the consequences the wrong person reading this blog may have for me. I live in constant un relenting fear.

Saddest of all, I am afraid of love and happiness. When someone is kind to me I don’t believe them, I don’t believe it will last. I don’t trust them. When I have the perfect happy day it frightens me, it lights up the shadows and opens up a wound that is so deep it’s never stopped bleeding.

So there is my fear. I know people can hurt you in many ways. I know fear, I’ve looked at it up close and it’s ugly and it really can freeze you so you literally cannot move. I also fear that if I truly embrace happiness, when the darkness comes, as it always has, I will be weak with happiness and this time round it will annihilate me.

A therapist years ago said I was a borderline personality disorder because I told him – “I expect and tolerate abandonment”. He was wrong I don’t have a disorder, I just know that people can love you so much they will abandon the real you to keep a tamed you as their possession.

Here are some lyrics to a song I wrote about my violent ex from all those years ago – in 16 years I never managed to write a tune…

Now look what I made you do
I made you mad I loosened the screw
Now look what I made you do
With your baby face and your eyes of blue
I made you do it
I made you lie
I raised your fist and blackened my eye

Now look what I made you say
Didn’t move
But darkened your day
Now look what I made you miss
Made you need and stole your kiss
I am the demon
Battered and bruised
You need me but you’re feeling used

Now look what I made you do
Take my thoughts and twist the truth
Now look what I made you do
You know it’s me you don’t need proof
Teach me a lesson
Your love is so great
Strangle me because love means hate

Recently I have played 2 roles as an actress in domestically violently situations- I don’t know if I did it justice really. I didn’t know how to show that before I was a victim of domestic violence I didn’t tremble, in fact I didn’t know how to even pretend to tremble. Now I tremble a lot and I hate my body for giving away that I am afraid.