miaoue's journal

[miaoue]

i've tried to start my journal thread a few times, but i don't really know where and how to start...

i can't start at the beginning. i still don't know where the beginning was. i cant remember any initial, "core" trauma. my earliest relevant memories are about symptoms or indicators of trauma, not about any possible sources. early memories (and even relatively later ones) are very muddled or hidden. not much comes up.

i could start with today, but then i'd be trying to tell my story both forwards and backwards, as time goes on and i make new discoveries...and no doubt i'd be leaving things out and getting confused

that leaves me nowhere to start, and it kind of seems easier not to start in the first place.

sometimes i have second thoughts about wanting to post at all, even though the members of this forum have been nothing but lovely. i don't want to take your time and attention. i have a paper journal at home, that should be enough....having my own thread seems like such a huge step toward taking up space in the world, and that's intimidating. to tell my innermost thoughts to an audience feels like an act of narcissism. i even feel a bit like when i tell my T this stuff. it feels like all this darkness and sickness belongs inside of me, where it has always stayed, not out in the world where others can see it.

on the other hand, i remember why i came to this forum in the first place: all these memories and emotions were coming up for me, too often and too fast for processing in therapy, and i felt the need to be heard and seen by someone else. normally i process my thoughts in private and only share the overall patterns or the conclusions i come up with. but i'm not that good at processing emotions. they get too intense and i find it hard to bring them to light without the anchoring, accepting presence of an empathetic listener.

so i think i will start with that, as a dedication for my journal thread. a reminder of why i am sharing, as well as what holds me back from doing so and what makes it so difficult.

[miaoue]

content: sexual abuse, verbal abuse, injury from sexual assault, consensual sex

today i reopened a physical and an emotional scar.... i had sex with my partner "P" which has surprisingly become a huge joy for me. our sex life together is beyond what i could have imagined during my marriage with my technically-still-husband "H". i wanted the sex, in fact i initiated it (which is a thing i do now, yay ) but at the end i was in a lot of pain. and P was feeling remorseful for hurting me.

the injury isn't his fault though. i don't want to be too graphic in describing it here, but it's one of the most common genital injuries resulting from rape. usually it heals fully without medical intervention. however, severe or repeated damage to the same area can cause scarring...and the scar tissue is susceptible to further injury because of its stiff, inelastic nature. so every once in a while, during sex, the scar opens again.

when it reopens, it's like having a brand new wound again, shocking and painful and scary. but there is P, holding me in his arms, apologizing for hurting me, asking what he can do to help...and before i even stop crying from the physical pain, i start crying again over his kindness. like the wound, the kindness feels raw and new every time. somehow i never expect tenderness and concern during sex...even though P has always shown me kindness, it always surprises me. the contrast is so stark between his response and the one i'm used to receiving from H.

H gave me the original injury the first time we slept together. and the second time, when he didn't wait for me to heal. and many times after that, when he wanted sex and i didn't..or even when i did, but couldn't get my body ready fast enough. over and over, he used his body as a weapon to take what he wanted, and damaged my body in the act of taking. H didn't just take pleasure from me forcefully....in place of the pleasure he took, he gave me pain. and when he saw the pain on my face, or heard me crying, or felt my body tense up and resist him, it made him angry. he would shout at me for not being ready, or for doing it wrong, or for having the nerve to push him away. all while he continued the act with my body because why stop? he was not finished yet! and i had better stop making "that face" or "that noise" because he wouldn't be able to keep it up otherwise.

after i cried over P showing me kindness, i cried over the memory of H's cruelty. the sheer monstrousness of hurting the so-called love of your life, and then yelling at them for being in pain and insisting they hide it so you can keep using their body for your own pleasure. and then i cried for my lost innocence, because H was the first person i ever had sex with, and i had no idea it wasn't supposed to be so painful. when he said i was wrong to scream and push him away, i believed him. i cried for my lost agency, for my feelings and preferences that were overwritten by his. for the authentic voice of my pain, which was silenced.

i haven't had the courage before to read up on my injury and whether it can be healed, but today i got the urge to look it up. the images and the clinical descriptions made me feel dizzy and sick. the bodies pictured looked hurt and broken. i got a mirror and examined my own body and saw where it is also broken, where the jagged line on the anatomical drawing represented an injury to my real flesh. and i felt such visceral horror and disgust, and lay down on the floor very lightheaded and queasy. i wanted to cry about the damage to my body, but i couldn't. in hindsight, i think examining my injury was a bridge too far. now every time i move a certain way and that area hurts, i also see the mirror flash in front of my eyes, reflecting the image of my wound to me. i wish i could unsee it.

my experience tells me the wound will heal up again in a few days. and then there will be another, thicker scar. and then it all might happen again. i don't know how to stop the scars from opening...the one on my body, or the one on my soul.

[DecimalRocket]

Miaoue. I'm deeply sorry for the verbal and sexual abuse you've gone through. I don't know about sexual abuse much, but I do know what it's like to share your experience here for the first time.

I thought I was being narcissistic too. I thought I was taking too much space too. Many of us did the first time we came here. Many of us still do at times. I do. Our abuse and neglect have made us feel we don't deserve the tiniest bit of attention on our wounds and joys. But we do — as human beings. As living breathing people with hopes, fears, insecurities and dreams.

It's okay to ask for attention as long as you don't force people to do so. We want to help you, so please come out here.

Take care.