I said his name

I said his name for the first time since I reported to the police. It's just a name. A fucking name. And I let the name, and the person, have power over me still. I meet people with the same name and I instantly hate them. I don't want to say the name. I don't want to read the name or write the name. I hate the name. I hate him. I hate that I give him power still.

In my therapy session today, I told my counselor how I've been wanting to say his name; how I want to take back the power. It's silly that I let a name have power over me. So I said his name aloud. And it felt like the nasty, burning sensation of stomach acid in your throat. Uttering the name provoked a visceral reaction. I sat on the couch in the safety of my counselor's office, but I flashed back to him. It felt like he was right there and I was a child again. I began shaking and crying. My counselor kept talking, but it was like she was muffled. It took me 10 minutes to finally calm down. But I said it. I took a little bit of power back.

For the sake of protecting my own privacy, I will continue to refer to him as Voldemort on here.

It happened...

Last night, my boyfriend and I were getting intimate and something triggered a flashback. I immediately tensed up and didn't know what to say. I wanted to scream to him to get off me and stop touching me. Being extremely intuitive, he noticed and stopped what he was doing. He asked me what was wrong, and I curled up into a ball and began to sob. My boyfriend kept asking what I needed I didn't know what I needed or how to communicate this and it made me even sadder. I sobbed harder. He kept trying to embrace me and I kept curling away from him, trying to make myself disappear into the mattress. I wanted him to comfort me, but I didn't know how. I also wanted him to leave. I felt like I was breaking apart. My mind was swimming in emotions that I couldn't process immediately. I felt like a child again. I felt like that helpless little girl that I once was. I felt this intense fear from the flashback. I felt like I was drowning in my own sorrow and fear. But he threw me a lifeline. He kept talking to me. He reminded me that he was here for me; reminding me of where I was and who I was with. He brought me back from the flashback. It probably took me a half hour to really calm down, but he talked me through it.

During the flashback I felt fear, but after I calmed down, I felt this intense sadness that this happened while with my boyfriend. I hoped I wouldn't experience a flashback like this. I hadn't until then, and I kept thinking that maybe I wouldn't. It felt terrible that I did experience this while with him. I didn't know how to communicate with him. I didn't know what I wanted or needed from him. I still feel a sort of raw sadness from it. I love him and I don't want him to think that it was anything that he did or said that caused it. It wasn't him. I love the way he touches me and explores my body with varying fierceness and gentleness. I love the way he makes love to me. I cannot explain why I reacted like I did last night to something that he had already done to me. I think that is what saddens me most; that I cannot explain to him, or myself, why I reacted so violently to a touch or a sensation that on previous occasions I had enjoyed very much.

I am so grateful though, because he stayed there with me and didn't freak out. He calmly talked to me and told me it was okay. He embraced me with such compassion and understanding that it almost hurt. I continued to weep in his arms, not because of the fear or sadness of the flashback, but because of the compassion, patience, and understanding he showed me. I feel so lucky to have found him.

The Boyfriend

I have a boyfriend. It feels weird to type/say that. I have a boyfriend and he’s wonderful.

I mentioned in my last post that I met a guy for coffee--the intense hand-holding guy. That's him. He's the boyfriend. It has been an intense, exciting, and scary whirlwind with him. Here are the details...

We went on that awesome coffee first date. Then two days later I asked him if he wanted to go for a walk. During the first date we found out that we live within a mile from each other and it was kind of perfect because my girlfriends who I usually walk or run with were not available and it was dusk. He met me near my apartments and we walked to a nearby park, hand-in-hand. Eventually he kissed me. Oh. My. Goodness. The way he kissed me. It took my breath away. I have never in my life been kissed with such gentle intensity. I kept thinking to myself that I can only imagine how he would make love to me. I didn't want to go home. I wanted to stay in the park for the rest of my life with him kissing me.

Later that week, maybe two or three days after the walk, we went for a hike after work. We ended up getting lost in the woods for a bit as the sun set. It was like a scary movie and I was that person leading everyone into the forest to slaughter. Only I didn't intend for any gory things to occur. And I was prepared with flashlights. :) We survived the forest at night and then he took me to dinner. After dinner, we parked the car just up the street from my apartment and sat outside on a bench in the park. And we just kissed and talked and kissed and talked. And I fell in love.

It sounds so strange to say that after three dates that I was falling in love. And he was too! He told me that night on the bench that he was falling in love with me. He told me such sweet things that night and I nearly wept on his shoulder. We cuddled on that bench until past midnight when I was falling asleep and he insisted that he take me home.

The next evening we hung out again. We went up to the park that he first kissed me and we sat on a bench overlooking the neighborhood. And we talked and kissed and watched as deer flooded the park at night to graze. It started to get chilly and he wanted to take me home, but I didn't want to go home just then. He suggested that we could go sit outside on the balcony at his place and I said okay. So we went back to his place, which was a total mess by the way, and we decided to watch a movie. And kissed a lot. Eventually he asked me to stay the night, and I was reluctant, which he sensed and he emphasized that he wasn't asking me to fool around or anything, but that he just wanted me to sleep next to him. I agreed to stay. We didn't really watch the movie though because we kept kissing, which did led to touching. Me touching him mostly. He tried to touch me and I would tell him no. I was so nervous. One thing that I wanted to do was tell the person I was dating about the sexual abuse I experienced as a child. I wanted the person to be aware that if things progressed, that I may withdraw or I may react a certain way. I wanted to be open with this person. I wanted to make sure they knew about this and that it is not a reaction of them, but my trauma. So I was scared and I didn't want him to touch me. But I touched him and it turned me on so much. I wanted more. My heart, body, and soul wanted more of him. And I did the scariest thing possible: I told him about my past. He was quiet and I was afraid that he didn't want me anymore. I was afraid that he was angry (which is totally absurd, by the way). After a moment, I asked him what he was thinking and if he was angry. And he said that yes he was angry. He was angry that this happened to me and he wanted to find Voldemort and harm him. He said he was sad that I experienced this suffering. He said he didn't want me to ever experience such pain again. He didn't want me to ever feel such loneliness again. I told him about the abuse and the depression I suffer that evening. That evening I told him, very briefly, about how deep and dark my sadness goes, about how only a little over a year ago, I was planning to kill myself. I revealed more about myself to him in one evening than I ever thought I would reveal. And he responded so well. He communicated with me and held me as I cried. He told me sweet things and that he is there for me. He told me he loved me and we fell asleep in each other's arms.

I was falling so hard for this guy. I kept thinking that this only happens in movies. No one falls in love this quickly. But then what was happening to me? Why did I feel this intense attraction to him? Not just a physical, primal, sexual attraction, but this metaphysical attraction. Like his soul was calling out for me. Even though by this time I had only known him a week, I felt like I had known him for years. He feels so familiar to me. I feel at ease with him. I have never felt so comfortable with someone. I felt this sense of peace wash over me the moment I met him. Does love at first sight actually happen??

After that evening with him, he took me home in the morning and I went out of town for the weekend. When I returned, he brought me dinner and stayed the night with me. That night he made love to me for the first time and it was wonderful.

He stayed over every night that week. And I started to feel unsure of things. I felt myself withdrawing and I really needed my space, but I had trouble communicating to him. I eventually told him that we needed boundaries, and that I cannot spend all my time with him. I was neglecting my friends. I told him that I like my alone time to process my thoughts and emotions. He respected my wishes. A few days later I got sick, and he brought me cough syrup, chocolate, and roses. Which complicated things because I wanted to breakup with him. I was feeling overwhelmed with the intensity of things between him and I. I was overwhelmed by his intensity. I wasn't communicating with him effectively enough. I wasn't conveying my needs to him. That wasn't fair to him. I wasn't sure that I could love him. I wasn't sure if I was falling in love with him, if I was in love with him, or if I was just in love with the idea of being in love with him. I was caught up in the whirlwind of him that I didn't give myself the time to figure things out for myself. So I stopped talking to him and when we were together while I was sick, I blamed me being sick for not wanting to be around him.

I was talking to my friends and my mom about this all. After some reflection, I realized that it wasn't him, but me. I was afraid to commit to him. I was afraid to trust him and to let him in, even though I thought I was doing so. I was afraid to be vulnerable with him. So I decided to just set my boundaries and see how things go. During this time of uncertainty, I started talking to the guy who lives about 1.5 hours from me. (Oh yeah! So before I left for my weekend trip, this guy who is my boyfriend now asked me to be exclusive. And then I told the 1.5 hour away guy about it and that I didn't think we should continue talking. The 1.5 hour away guy was understanding and wanted to continue talking, and still wanted to meet. I told him we could still talk but that meeting wasn't a good idea because if things were reversed on him, would he want his new girlfriend meeting some other guy? He agreed. But we hadn't really continued talking about I told him about my boyfriend.) So during my uncertainty about my boyfriend, I started talking to this other guy (1.5 hour away guy/therapist) and he asked about my boyfriend. I told him that I was planning on breaking up with him. After a week, I still didn't breakup with my boyfriend. But I started to feel more certain of him. I didn't want to break up with him anymore. I realized one night while talking to therapist guy that I wanted to let my boyfriend in and to really open up to him. I was not being really honest with him or open with him. I wasn't communicating. I was afraid. I realized that night while on the phone with therapist guy that I was being more open with therapist guy than I actually was with my boyfriend. I told therapist guy that I changed my mind and that I wasn't going to breakup with my boyfriend. I apologized if I led him on and I wished him the best. We agreed to still talk, but I made it clear with him that I was only his friend.

The next night I really opened up to my boyfriend. I told him about how I was going to break up with him and how I started talking to the therapist guy again. I told him about my fears and concerns. I told him my needs. I just poured my soul to him. I wept in his arms. And he held me so fiercely and told me he loved me. He cried in my arms while I wept and confessed how I felt undeserving of him. It felt so good telling him this. This night, I told him that I loved him. We went back to my place and made love. And we fell asleep in each other arms.

The rest is history. I have made significant improvements in communicating with him, and it is working out so perfectly. He's so respectful. I love him. I think I knew him in a past life and that's why he's so familiar to me. That's why things feel so intense with him. And that's why I was so scared. Because I already knew I loved him from the moment I saw him. My soul recognized him.

Trusting myself to date

I'm starting to date. Well, mostly just talking... But I did go on a date this past Friday night and it was really awesome! (I will elaborate on the date in a bit.) This is the first date I've been on in several years. It felt different this time though. It's really hard to put into words how relocating seems to make dating easier for me. I've written previously about how I was, in a sense, running away from my past when I relocated. I think relocating was a huge step in the right direction for my healing process. I've never felt happier, never felt more relaxed than I do now. It's been freeing.

As I said, I'm dating/talking to people. It's exciting and anxiety-inducing all at once. I think I'm finally at a point in my life where I'm ready for something more serious, and that scares the shit out of me. Serious relationships terrify me. When a relationship starts to become serious, there is boundary where I've never been able to cross. I've never been able to be vulnerable with someone else in such an intimate manner. That is why I've never had a serious relationship before. I have never been able to open up before.

I had always preferred casual relationships. Sex without attachment. It's less complicated, less messy. I don't have to tell them my thoughts and feelings; it's not expected. I don't have to get to know him; it's not expected. I never have to be emotionally intimate. And when things become too serious for me, I just end it. These relationships have formed out of physical needs and I rejected anything that became emotional. Because I could not handle emotion. I would blame it on being busy or focused on school, but it was really because I wasn't ready to tackle my demons and share the experience with another human being.

Now, I'm ready.

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I went on a date with this guy Friday evening. We met at a local coffee shop and spent three hours together talking. We talked about our lives and our families and where we grew up. We talked about religion and politics and international travels. We talked about our jobs and our future goals. Eventually we were holding hands across the table and staring deeply into each others eyes. (No joke! It was intense!) It didn't seem like three hours. When I finally noticed the time, I apologized because I had to leave. I had promised my friends that I'd hangout with them and when I finally checked my phone I had several missed calls and unanswered texts. He walked me to me car, holding my hand and then we hugged goodnight. He asked me out for a second date. He was very kind and respectful. It was such an intense date. The last three years have been focused on myself and healing, and I've been celibate for the entire time. The act of holding hands with this guy had me so aroused; I couldn't believe it! I texted my best friend back home about it and she said, "I think actually that kind of touch can be pretty sensual..." I couldn't agree more.

I'm also talking to this other guy who lives about an hour and a half from me. We haven't met yet, but we've been talking for about a month now. We are finally planning to meet two weeks from now. I'm going to drive to his hometown, since I haven't been there before, and he's going to show me around the city. I think it'll be fun. I like this guy already, he seems really nice. I feel like I can really open up to him and it doesn't hurt that he's actually a therapist either. I was just telling him last night that he had really found his calling because it's really easy to talk to him. I can imagine his clients just opening up to him immediately because I have to hold myself back and only let a little crazy out at a time.

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This is exciting, but I also feel anxious and nervous about dating. That's natural, yes?

It's going to be strange for me. I have mixed feelings about dating. I'm doubtful that I can maintain something serious. I'm anxious about getting serious with someone. It means that when things become serious, I will have to tell them about my dark past. I will have to open up and be emotionally intimate. I will have to be vulnerable. I will have to trust them. I'm afraid to trust. I'm afraid of giving someone my trust and yet again, it being betrayed.

I trusted Voldemort once. I trusted that he would take care of me and then he fucked with me. He got in my head and twisted my thinking. He took my trust and defiled it with his body. It makes me want to never trust someone again.

I swear that I saw him

Over the weekend I had a friend from home visit me in my new town. She and I went to a restaurant for lunch. When we walked inside, there was a table to my right with four guys in it. One of them reminded me of Voldemort. His hair style and color, his facial appearance. I could have sworn that I was staring at him 20 years ago. I stood frozen. I was terrified. I knew it wasn't him. He's 20 years older and he's in prison, but it just brought me back to that time as a child. My friend brought me back to reality and dragged me to a table. Thankfully out of view of that guy. I sat with my friend and tried to enjoy our meal and forget about him. My heart raced the entire time.

Letter to my sister

I wrote my sister a letter. It took me nearly two weeks before I finally mailed it. My sister and I are not close and it felt foreign to try and connect with her. I don't even know her phone number, I don't know where she lives, and I really don't know her. I know her based on my perception and judgment of her life decisions. And I'm realizing that some of those "decisions" may not be consciously made. Some of her actions are predetermined by her past experiences, and as such are not an extension of what she wants for herself. Her actions and decisions are decided by something else, and I need to be more understanding.

So I wrote her a letter. Specifically, I wrote her because last Thanksgiving we were at my parents' place for dinner. She brought her boyfriend to dinner and apparently he wasn't feel well. My sister was in the room off the kitchen with her boyfriend and our stepdad and she was insisting that her boyfriend do something. I don't really know what they were talking about, but her boyfriend kept saying "no" and she kept insisting. She said to him, "I don't take no for an answer." It really bothered me and I walked into the room and said to my sister, "No means no. If he doesn't want to do something, leave it be. Would you like it if someone forced you to do something?" To which she responded with something like, "Many people haven't listened when I told them no." That made my heart break. I quickly told her, "Well, that wasn't right and no one deserves that. You should respect your boyfriend though." This interaction with her has bothered me since. I feel like a shitty sister. I didn't protect her.

I wrote about this incident to her. And then I told her about...Voldemort. (It brings me too much anxiety to even write or speak his name, so he is Voldemort. Or He Who Must Not Be Named.) I told her about when we were little and we were babysat by grandma in the summer while our parents worked. I told her about how grandma would leave for work in the afternoon and leave Voldemort in charge to babysit us. I told her I tried to protect her by making her go play outside or in another room. I didn't want him to touch her and hurt her like he did to me. (Thinking on it right now, I didn't want to share him with her. Isn't that so fucked up how someone can mess with your mind?! I mean, I knew that it was wrong on some level. I remember feeling guilty after our "special time" together so I knew that whatever was happening was wrong. On the other hand, I believed that I was special and I didn't want to lessen the special-ness of our time together by including my little sister. So when I excluded her as a child, it wasn't out of protection, it was because I was selfish. Because Voldemort not only fucked with my body, but fucked with my mind.)

I told her that I loved her and that I'm sorry that I didn't say anything sooner and that I didn't protect her. I told her that I wish and hope that nothing like this happened to her by Voldemort or anyone else, but if it had, I would listen. And I would believe her. I told her that I hope she can begin to heal and move past it all if someone had violated her boundaries. I told her that boundaries are okay and that people should respect them. I apologized for not being supportive previously.

I hope my letter gives her strength.

Removing the toxic feelings

"Feelings of anger, bitterness, and hate are negative. If I kept those inside me they would spoil my body and my health. They are of no use." -The Dalai Lama

I wholeheartedly believe this is true, which is why I desperately want to shed the negative feelings I carry with me. I think I'm making progress.

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It has been a few months since I last posted something, and you know what I'm not going to do? Apologize. This blog is for me; I write for myself not for you. This is my story.

I have met some really awesome people in the last few months and I'm so happy. I feel like this is the happiest I have been in a long time, if I've even been this happy before. I think the relocation improved my outlook on life. I'm not saying that I'm "cured" and that my life will be smiles and rainbows from now on, but I feel like I finally have a chance of winning this battle.

In my last counseling session I told my therapist that I'm afraid. I'm afraid that this high, this happiness I'm feel will vanish soon and I'll be left in my negative thoughts and feelings again. I'm afraid to become like I was. I'm afraid that I might spiral into that pit where I can't come back up. I'm terrified that I might feel so low again that I want to kill myself and my closest friends, who would not let me be alone the last time I was suicidal, are hundreds of miles away. It may be irrational fear, but it's there and I feel like this fear is lurking and just waiting to pounce at the right moment. I understand that all emotions and feelings are impermanent, and that I cannot always be happy, but I know my history and history tells me that when I'm not happy, I'm deeply depressed.

So I'm working hard now in my moments of happiness to continue building a positive network of friends who I can lean on in my dark hours, when and if it returns. I'm working hard now to build myself up and shed negative thoughts so that I won't have as many later.

My plan might actually work. Or that's just the optimism talking.