Wrecking Ball

I understand the purpose and the benefits of having this gigantic wall around my emotions and memories. I survived because of these mechanisms and they’ve served me well. I need it all taken down now, though, so in comes the wrecking ball.

I have to force myself to do and say things I’ve never dreamed of doing and saying. In counseling a couple of weeks ago, I mentioned I allowed a bad memory to linger instead of instantly pushing it aside with hoards of other daily thoughts. It sauntered in my mind for about 30 seconds, maybe a minute, and left as quickly as it entered. This was okay, there was no dramatic fallout afterwards. She asked me to recount the memory and while I knew specifically what it was, I couldn’t describe it out loud. The more I tried, the more my mind shoved back, tears formed and my throat closed in fear. My brain was working against me, by working diligently for me. 

Dreaming Reality

My official diagnosis is post-traumatic stress disorder. No surprise there, right? What is a surprise, to me, is that it is getting worse. Which would be why I’m trusting my therapist when she says that shattering the bone into a million pieces will actually make it heal better in the long run. Okay, so maybe those are my words, but replace bone with psyche and you have the image I display when asked to “relive” the memories. Next session will be the first one to discuss an actual memory from my past.

As I’ve mentioned before, most of these memories are neatly tucked away in the darkest recesses of my mind. I’ve lost the catalog files and have no idea how to retrieve them, which is more than okay with me. However, there are a few that refuse to leave me alone and I  fight them on a near daily basis to be gone. I will bring up one of those, since I have no way of keep the little monster in the bag, anyways. 

Affected Affections.

I’ve had to push the health issues off for a few months. It is no surprise that there has been a plethora of new health problems arise (fibromyalgia, migraines, memory issues, etc) in the past year, with the bombardment my subconscious has been taking recently. Plus, my therapist thinks I really need to face my problems again. They are starting to heavily affect my marriage now.

There are days where any touch I receive from my husband makes me feel queasy. I gag a little if it sexual in nature. At first, I didn’t say anything. If he started to touch me due to midnight randiness, I’d pretend I was still sleeping and hope he’d stop. One night, which I don’t remember, he said I snapped at him and was incredibly rude to him for trying to get me in the mood out of a sleep. I felt terrible about that, because I knew that it was my subconscious acting out its complete repulsion to his advances. This is especially detrimental, because he’s trying very hard to overcome porn addiction. Part of my support is allowing him to come to me at any time with his desires. This took him back a few steps, unfortunately.