Jeans and the increasing intensity


I briefly brought Jeans up to date on the goings on since we last met. But I highlighted something I’d not really realised before – that when I’d spoken to the Principal I’d remained present the whole time – I hadn’t disassociated. He also brought it home that I was identifying a place that I’d been able to speak openly and honestly and done that. I’d not hidden away my past. I’d faced it. Progress?

I admitted that my week as a whole had been difficult with nightmares and flashbacks and intrusive thoughts. He told me to expect that as we were working so hard.

The conversation gravitated – (or perhaps I pulled it) to my ex. I feel the relationship was intrinsically linked to the attack because I’d confided in him. Because he kept me ‘safe’

I never identified the relationship as abusive. He started off as controlling. But I wanted to keep him happy and more importantly I wanted him to keep me safe.

I never intended to go into detail with Jeans. I wanted to summarise some aspects. Certainly avoid the humiliating aspects.

I began to disassociate. My peripheral vision was gone. Time, space no longer existed. I drifted between my ex’s bedroom and blackness. Him shoving me onto the bed. Telling me to fight him off or else I wanted it. Forcing himself on me over and over so that I was in physical agony.

I had a body memory there in the therapy room. Jeans must have seen pain in my face. He asked if I was feeling it. I felt ashamed and humiliated and I told him that and yes I felt pain. He told me to bear with it. To breathe and that it would pass.

I had an urge to cry out, ‘FUCK YOU’ and curl into a ball on the floor. I hurt so badly. My minds eye forcing me to view the things my ex did. Forcing me to remember he didn’t want to me shower. When I was upset he would say, ‘I’m not ‘him” referring to my attacker. He was insulted that I would react in a way to imply that he or I was dirty or injured.

I was a nothing. Tossed around the bed. His pleasure.

My vision was barely a pin prick. Jeans was trying to talk me back.

I felt so lost in all of it. I was the closest I’ve ever been since it happened. None of it made sense.

Jeans and I walked around the room. I kind of swayed and hobbled and wondered if I might throw up. I don’t remember much of the goodbye. I was still a bit out of it.

I lasted my session. I didn’t talk my way out of it. I faced a demon. I realise this week might be wobbly.

But I faced this memory full on.



11 thoughts on “Jeans and the increasing intensity

  1. Facing the demons head on in therapy…a great step! Be ever so gentle with yourself as you heal these deep wounds, reliving experiences, and gaining new perspective…For me, getting a manicure was the ultimate “me care”- because I seldom let someone else take care of me. (((Hugs)))💜

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks AoA, funny you should say that – i booked a facial! Im in this weird suspended state, but i havent been so forthcoming before so i feel ready for this stage of therapy. Thank you for your support xx


  2. Atta girl…I knew I liked Jeans!!!
    You are doing some serious work, sweetie…you’re right that you’ve made progress, indeed. I’m sorry for your recollections, but I fear they are necessary thing for each of us to endure in order to move ahead. Hugs!


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