Different than what it was supposed to be

I'm listening to Radiohead's Hail To The Thief album. It helps when...

Who am I kidding? Nothing helps, nothing makes the pain go away or even quiet down. Panic mode for three days. If I could be anywhere in the world, it wouldn't be here. I hate this city. Everywhere I go is a reminder of what they did to me, every experience echos with their influence. Or screams with it. Actually, it might always be screaming but I just don't have the patience to listen. If it weren't for them, I'd be able to look in the mirror. I wouldn't get myself into situations like this, where nothing is safe and everything hurts.
A while ago, it was my habit in this sort of time to create an entire world apart from the real one, containing someone who loved me and took me away from my life. Sometimes I invented sweet, wonderful people who were reflections of the best parts of me, but more often they were scary people who "loved" me so much they Couldn't Handle It. In my mind, I was constantly beaten and raped and berated, but somehow it always felt safer than my reality. I remember being fifteen and thinking rape was the ultimate expression of love. I remember thinking about that months ago and shuddering at the realization of where I got that idea.
Part of me used to absolutely hate being a woman. I believed that my life wouldn't have been nearly as bad if I had been born with a dick. People wouldn't care so much that I was fat, people wouldn't take it upon themselves to touch me without permission, I could have avoided being looked down upon like women are in this society. The really sad part of this is I only seemed to change my view when I lost weight. But it was more than that, of course it was.
I made myself lose my train of thought. It's only when I panic like this that the duality I usually feel goes away and I feel totally like one person. I have no idea whether that's good or not. It's gotten really bad when I realize that drugs of any kind would only make the pain worse. Even with experience, I used to never be able to admit that. Even now, I can feel a part of my mind trying to prove that wrong. Even if they made the pain "go away", it would just be a bigger hurt later on. Nothing ever really goes away when you don't look at it, no matter how deeply you shove it down.
Dammit, I wanted to write more but my mind is closing up. I'm sleepy but I don't like the idea of being that vulnerable.