I Could Not Say No

I can't seem to be able to put this one down on the list:

My stepfather sexually abused me!

This really happened to me, and it should not have! Grown men should never ever do anything remotely sexual with any teenagers or children, let alone their wives' children! The children know that it is wrong, but they do not know how to stop it.

I could not say no, because I did not have the power, I was just a girl.

Then I grew up and wrote this about my marriage:

What happened to my words? I was so bold. I had somehow gained the power to say NO, the power to say NO MORE. I was using that power even if it meant days of indifference and silent treatments. It did not matter to me, because what did I have to lose?

I had the courage to say NO to sex that I did not want to have, even if it meant I would have to fight for that and defend my physical space for days, even weeks.

When I lost that courage, I became again the girl who says yes because she has no power to say no. I said yes because NO had consequences. I said yes to get it over and done with, to get him "off my back". I said yes because I knew he would not stop asking, so I said yes to keep the peace.

When I said yes these times, I became a cheap slut. I felt used and humiliated. These encounters had no meaning for me. I even became detached during the intercourse. I thought of other things to escape the ordeal, like a girl oppressed under her stepfather. And then it would come - the disgusting taste in my mouth of the man from my childhood, the feel of his weight on me...and I wanted to cut.

I Tremble as I Write This

What have I gotten myself into?

I volunteered for EMDR therapy. For those who have not heard about it, click here for a nice explanation. I will be doing this with my therapist of over ten years, so trust is not an issue. Yet, I am terribly afraid.

The first assignment he gave me was to make two lists (side by side). One is of things that should not have happened, the other is of things that bring comfort. It is the "Things That Should not Have Happened" list that terrifies me.

How can I bring myself to remember? I am so afraid of going there. I am afraid of writing those things down, because they would become so real. They would no longer be those gray memories that float around my head -  semi real, semi nightmare. They would become concrete events that truly happened...things that were really done to me that should not have been.

I am afraid I would then become lost in the nightmare. I am afraid of not being able to control the immense sadness that I would feel for my wounded child. I am afraid it would then turn into anger, and I would hurt myself.

So I am afraid to write all the words down this time.

I Felt Heard

A simple thing happened yesterday - I FELT HEARD!

I felt heard not in a huge important "I've got something really big to say" way. I felt heard in a small but rather significant way. Yesterday, as my husband and I strolled along the downtown streets, we talked about everything and nothing. This has not been normal for us for over a year.

It is strange how a woman can feel so invisible when she talks about small things, such as the funny joke a friend told her, and she gets interrupted as he points out the truck driving by. Worse yet, he interrupts her to have a conversation with one of the kids. He never returns to her to pick up where she was interrupted. If he does, so much has transpired in between that she feels her story is too insignificant to even continue...so she doesn't.

This has been the norm for us for many years. Yesterday, however, things were very different. As we passed sights and visited shops, we commented and shared the little things. When I spoke, he listened without interrupting, even though I was not moving mountains. I was just talking about the little nothings. So often I have felt that I am only being heard if I have earth shattering news to report. This is what was different - I was being heard when no one's life depended on it.

I felt so good.

I almost trusted again, but that will take more than just one carefree morning together. After all, it took a lot of little hurts and little jabs to destroy that trust.

The Mighty Cocaine High

A person high on cocaine feels like everything is right with the world, and everything that they set out to do will work out. They make elaborate plans and have every intention of acting on them, because all will work out well. They are very enthusiastic and optimistic about life in general and cannot see why they ever doubted anything or anyone...for that brief moment during which they are high. When the cocaine wears off, nothing is as wonderful as it seemed just a moment ago. The person may start to feel desperate, and everything is a big disappointment.

This is how my marriage is. There are times when I am so enthusiastic about things working out. I make plans. I think that if I compromise in this way and am kinder in another way, something will give and we can start to have a good marriage. We might even enjoy each other's company...and then he speaks or acts, and everything comes crumbling down like  the Mighty Cocaine High crashing down from it's peak. Then I realize all the reasons why I want to leave.

Introduction

This blog is born from a need to voice my words, to allow them to rise like a song out of my heart and into the open. This blog is born from a refusal to be silent any longer. I will tell my story in words that are sometimes raw but necessary. I will walk you through my journey.

I hope you will find companionship. I hope that I am not alone in these thoughts and these emotions that I share.