Ooooo, It's Saturday

A very creative title, I know. You're welcome for that.
I  had planned on writing last night, but there was too much stimulation in the house and I was too tired to try and concentrate. It seems silly sometimes to update the couple of random people who may stumble upon this blog, but it's helpful for me. So let's get on with it, shall we?
Thursday. Was not too bad, actually. I worked that day, a full patient load, and my patients were all quite lovely. I floated through the day with my head just below the surface - feeling a little melancholy, depressed - and couldn't seem to bring it above the water. No matter. I've had thousands of days like that. Who knows - maybe that's what my baseline is. All in all, not a bad day.
Friday. My alarm clock woke me from a nightmare. A nightmare about my rape. A nightmare so vivid, I almost screamed out and was near tears. I kept reminding myself it was a dream, I was at home and I was safe. I calmed down slightly in the shower and I became convinced that my rapist was going to be at my work, his girlfriend or wife having a baby and I would be the one at the delivery. Why did I think this? Hell if I know (though there were snippets of that in my nightmare). I was a bit frantic as I left for work, my anxiety building as I got there. I immediately checked the names of everyone in labor and of everyone coming in to be induced. At least there was no matching last name. Still, my anxiety climbed. I sat down to get report and was called to a delivery. As I entered the room, I was in near panic and unable to calm myself. I tended to the baby who required resuscitation with shaking hands, trying to focus solely on what I was doing. Luckily, I was only in there for 25 minutes - because when I got back to the nursery I almost collapsed into a shaking ball of worthlessness. C, who was charge nurse on the floor, was in there and talked to me while I took my Xanax sub lingually (thank GOD I had remembered to bring it with me). She's someone who I trust, and I told her why I was so upset - I told her about the rape (not details, mind you, but that it happened, I was finally working through it, and I was having nightmares). She told me some of her own past (which I won't mention here - confidentiality for her) and how it took her almost 15 years to be able to talk about it. It helped. A lot. And so did the Xanax, of course. Calmed me down in around 10 minutes.
I also happened to tell my friend T. I've know T since high school, we've worked together since college (both before and after nursing school), and we were in nursing school together. She also knows my rapist. And I told her about it. I felt I needed to - another way to air out those bones. And she was pissed - though not shocked - by what he had done.
Here's the thing: it felt better to tell some trusted people. It lightens the load. And it's part of working through everything I'm feeling now. And the rest of my day went very well - I was in good spirits, my head above the water for once.
Also?
My dog has bad gas.
Thought you should know.