I Use Online Writing as my Therapist and I Haven’t Felt This Great in 7 Years

I have diagnosed PTSD.

I developed it, along with general anxiety and episodes of paranoia (which have mostly gone away), following my sexual assault.

Up until now, I haven’t felt much of a need to talk to a therapist regularily about it, feeling like I have it mostly under control.

But, maybe my anxiety convinces me every day as well that it’s not that bad for me to need professional help, or maybe I really am just “okay enough” to get through everyday life with the coping skills I have?

Hard to know.

But what I do know is that ever since I’ve started writing and publishing 2-3 article online every day, I haven’t felt this amazing and okay since my assault.

And that was 7 years ago.

To say that writing personal essays online has been a godsend to me in my life would be an understatement.

Am I “okay enough” to function, or just in denial?

Wow… has it been 7 years already?

I mean, I’ve done a lot these past years. I started my own business, made that business succeed, bought a house, got engaged, rescued a Shih Tzu, and even wrote the draft manuscript to my debut novel.

So, it’s not like I’ve been paralyzed with trauma to the point of inactivity. I’ve still been getting on with things — with a few inconvenient emotional obstacles to deal with along the way.

But still. The last few years have been some of the most fulfilling, whole and healing days I’ve had since the assault.

And I credit it all to writing my truths online, as I’m using some of my articles as a form of emotional processing, and well, therapy.

There are things I can say on here which I don’t feel safe enough or confident enough to say to the people in my life.

Funny how I can talk about the darkest most vulnerable moments of my existence with hundreds of thousands of potential readers (and strangers) online, but talking to my family and closest friends feels too bold or scary.

That said, I think that through this process I’m getting a little closer to being able to open up with others in my personal life about the issues I’ve been dealing with.

And for me, that’s a huge step forward.

Using the online publication platforms has helped me realize that I have a place in the mental health space.

When I started realizing I actually had some mental health issues going on (even after I was officially diagnosed), I didn’t feel like I was qualified enough to talk about it, and especially not write about it, in a public forum.

This was more-so seeded in the fact that I know plenty of other people who have it far worse than me when it comes to their mental health struggles — and for that reason, I didn’t feel like it was my place to impose.

But through writing about my experiences, and getting them typed out into words right in front of my face, I’ve come to a place where I can validate within myself that yes, there is room for me in this bigger conversation, and I do have valid input.

At the end of the day, there’s enough space in this conversation for any and all of us to share our mental health struggles. It’s not restricted solely to those who are considered to be more serious cases.

While publishing personal essays are great for writing practice, maybe there’s a bigger purpose here.

There are some things in my articles that have really shocked me — some really cruel and mean things that I apparently feel towards myself.

For example, in one post, I finish off with calling myself stupid and dumb over and over for trusting my assaulter and not being able to see him for the monster he truly was.

I go on to say that I feel I failed my 19-year-old self by not protecting her or her innocence, when that was my only real responsibility back then.

In all the self-reflection and journaling I’ve done in these 7 years, never has such a deep sense of self-betrayal or self-loathing come up within me, other than when I was having my more serious panic attacks.

I ended up reading some of my articles aloud to my husband, saying:

“Hey, so something came up in my writing, and I think it’s important that you know that this is apparently how I feel about myself.”

We both sat there, equally taken-a-back by my confessions — I’m a confident woman with a lot of self-love, so to hear this voice deep inside me calling me such cruel names and making unfair accusations was a real surprise for the both of us.

Final word.

As I come more and more to terms with the depths of how my sexual assault has affected me, and still does to this day, I wonder if a real therapist is warranted.

One that doesn’t live exclusively within my own bias.

And maybe that day is coming — maybe it’s time, even if it’s only a couple times a month, for me to commit to regular therapy sessions with a clinical professional.

I just don’t think I’m ready for that quite yet.

Until then, I’ll continue writing online to enlighten me and help me process throughout my continued journey of healing.

The fact that I have found this outlet is so incredibly beautiful that I truly don’t have the words to express how much it means to me and has changed my life.

Maybe I’ll find the words someday.

A version of this article was originally published by the author on Medium.