I wrote some stuff last night and posted it. By this morning I needed to delete it. In fact there is a small part of me that feels like deleting this whole blog. What I posted last night just seemed too...personal...I guess that is the word. Or perhaps I just felt too exposed. Again though, that sounds weird given everything I have written on here.
Perhaps it was just the extra detail I had remembered in regard to what that post was about. The detail that came through in a "through my eyes" nightmare. So much extra detail when it is actually happening to you rather than watching it happen.
I see wonderful psychologist today. Seems like an eternity when in reality it has only been a week since I last spoke with her.
I almost burst into tears here a my desk not long ago. I feel like I could cry at any moment. I hope that I don't.
I do feel like I am making progress. Some things are not nearly as hard as they were. Even I, the pessimist, have to admit that. Is pessimism learned behaviour? My father used to constantly berate my mum for being a pessimist. Other things still just feel so, so hard. There is much that still causes significant pain.
"It will take time". That is what everyone says to me. I realise that 7 months isn't a lot of time when it comes to 16 years of abuse/assaults. I just wish sometimes that the pain would lessen with regard to certain things.
I know that I have come a long way in regard to A. While not wanting to rush out an see him but I don't feel the same amount of tension that I did a few months ago. I have been doing some stuff myself over the break with lovely psychiatrist. Not emdr obviously but sort of an exposure thing. I have written extensively about what happened, not here, just for myself. Every little detail that I remember. Every drink; every face that I see; every kiss on the lips and on the neck; every movement of his hand over my clothes; the first touch of his cold hand under my top; every word he said to the other person; the feeling of arms around my waist and mine around theirs; every stumble while "walking"; the softness of the bed; every feeling; every movement; every gasp for breath; every sound; every word; every smell; every touch; every response of my body to his. I wrote, in a book with a pen, every detail from the first drink to blacking out. It was painful to write it out. Very painful and I cried. I cried a lot. However, it felt important to me. Important to get it out of me. I haven't read it back like I do some of the stuff on here. I am currently considering what to do with it. In the meantime it is sealed in a envelope.
Anyway, what I started out saying was that doing that has helped me enormously in regard to A. I can think of the scenario that I have been working with lovely psychiatrist without being totally overwhelmed. Without my body becoming so tense I can hardly move. I don't seem to have the same level of fear. I think I could probably remain professional work wise. I don't think that I would freeze in public. Obviously I don't know these things for sure but I am more confident in myself when it comes my reactions to him.
Hmm, this has really wandered away from what I started out with. Wandered in a good direction I think though.