child of God, wife, mother, recovering anorexic who longs to see the beauty in herself that she sees in the world around her

Sunday, October 30, 2011

I did it

So many thoughts so little time.  So what do I share and still get my backside to bed to recover from no sleep last night thanks to staying up with a sick little guy?  While there is a lot on my mind, I guess I should update on the life events that have happened over the last month. 

I decided at a point that I was ok with Hubby touching me.  Not thrilled, mind you, but accepting of it.  He was wonderful, as he always is, and did nothing until I made the first move.  There is something about being the one in control that takes some of the fear out of "the event".  My body was no longer hyper sensitive and he had been patient.  I didn't want to take advantage of his patience just because I didn't feel like it.  Not being in the mood is quite a bit different from being traumatized.  So I kissed him a little longer than I had been and I wrapped his arms around me.  That is my sign when it is ok to touch me again.

And you know what?  That man was so very gentle.  And somehow being intimate with him was healing not damaging.  Somehow being with him made me feel safe again.  I can't even explain it because to me it doesn't make much sense, but it was like giving someone a broken vase and receiving it back fixed and filled with flowers.  It was a mental effort for me, a HUGE mental effort.  I had to recenter myself several times.  I had to force myself to stay in the moment, there with him, instead of retreating to my mental happy place.  It nearly made me cry once or twice to stay present, but I did it.  When my mind tried to shut off, I somehow reminded myself that this wasn't the men who hurt me and managed to bring myself back.

And it does help (sorry if this is tmi!) that while Hubby is wonderful about satisfying me, he doesn't get his feelings hurt if I don't "get there".  For a couple of times, I didn't want to get there.  That meant losing control of my body and that was just too scary for me.  I redirected a little, didn't get there and he wasn't offended by it.  Even in the deed, my body was mine.  He once again, ever so gently, brought my heart out of hiding.

I did it!  I rode the wave of emotion and didn't die from it!  Ok, so I thought I was going to at times.  I spent days crying or sleeping.  I refused to cook or clean.  I barely ate, I wasn't even hungry.  My dreams at night were riddled with suicide attempts.  I'm not sure that I wanted to die, but I didn't really want to live either.  I wanted to not exist.  But the point is, I did it.  I felt the emotion.  I didn't stuff the emotion, even though I really wanted to.  And in the end, I actually do feel somewhat better.  I made it through another emotional hurricane, and yeah maybe lost some windows and downed some trees but it didn't wipe me out.......this time.


  1. Such an inspiring entry! I am so proud of you and I don't even know you. I hope you continue to pat yourself on the back. This entry is such a testament to your strength, perseverance, and the also to the gentle understanding love your husband has for you. Keep it up!

    From, another fighter.

  2. Thank you, Fighter. Keep fighting! Keep going! And I will too despite the nearly constant voice begging me to quit.