I get really frustrated with myself because I think of all the people in the world who barely stay alive every day and I'm worrying about having time off and spending my time trying to figure out why I'm so unhappy when I have that time that's not filled in with some activity. Nevertheless, this is what I'm working on right now.

I managed to admit to someone, my PhD advisor, that the truth of it all is that I can't stand to have time off because all I do is cry and/or think about killing myself.  That the ache, the emptiness, the shame, and lately, the anger, is so intense I try to run away from it all the time.   I have to work to the point I can hardly see straight so I fall right asleep and don't have to think about anything.

I've also managed to admit to myself that the reason for this is because I still hurt so much over being molested and raped over a few years of my life.  And I'm angry at myself for hurting over it.  It seems like something I should just get over and forget about.  Other than that, my life was and is wonderful-what do I have to complain about?  Again, it's back to thinking about the people who struggle everyday to survive and have endured so much worse.  What gives me the right to hurt over this?  

And anyway, why do I even think I'm worth enough to hurt over because of that?  What makes me think I deserve to be hurt by what he did?  Most of the time I feel like I'm not worth anything anyway, so what makes me think I deserved anything different than that?  Why do I ever think I should be treated as anything other than completely at anyone else's disposal?  What's the big deal anyway right?  

So...I've managed to admit why I stay so busy all the time and admitting the problem is the first step right?  I guess I'm just not sure where to go from here.