bread, sex and other random thoughts

Random weekend thoughts......

I must bake bread.  My current emotional survival depends on rising dough, punching it down, kneading it and the smell of fresh baked bread filling my house!  I have flour and yeast.  I need the comfort that bread making brings.  Not really sure why, but I do.  Life has been going great and I have also felt the tug of depression.  I can't even begin to figure it out.  I'm on top of the world with tears hiding behind my eyes.  I wonder once it is made if I will eat the bread or gift it away like I usually do.  Maybe both? 

I had a moment of progress.  I was goofing around and made a sucked in face pose (how does one actually describe the face you make?????) and when I did my collar bone stuck out big time.  I instantly longed for that body again and just as quickly as I longed for it I thought how much fun sex is with a healthy body.  I actually ENJOY when my husband touches me now.  I actually desire and look forward to his touch again.  I can reach the peak of fulfillment again which I couldn't when I was sick. 

When I was sick, I dreaded his amorous attentions.  It hurt my bones to have his hands touching my body.  It didn't feel good at all.  It was a chore and made me understand why some refer to it as a wifely duty.  So while I was wanting that body again, I didn't want the pain again.  I really like sex and I really want to keep liking sex and I can't do that with an unhealthy body. 

Does that realization mean that I don't ever struggle?  No, unfortunately it doesn't take away the argument in my brain or the voices that demand that I be punished.  But it does put one more thing in the pro-healthy body category to help fight those voices. 

Happy weekend friends and here is a beautiful thought to end on....

Please define "real"

I am torn to shreds hearing comments about "real" rape, "legitimate" rape and "forceable" rape.  Is there any other type of rape?  Is there a polite way to violate someone so viciously?  If there is, I am certainly unaware of it. 

How is it possible that once again it is all the woman's fault?  SHE got pregnant (never mind that it was because HE forced his deviant way upon her).  It must be her fault.  Wasn't it her fault that he couldn't control himself in the first place? 

I'm sorry, but this time I call bullshit.  Ask the friend of my friend who recently birthed the baby of her rapist.  Ask her if his assault was welcome.  Ask her if her body could have shut down his sperm.  Ask any victim of unwanted sexual touch if their experience was "legitimate". 

Although I know the controversy is a launching pad for an abortion debate, I can't even get that far right now.  All I can hear is that women are responsible for having bodies that men want.  All I can hear is that women are responsible for getting pregnant when attacked.  All I can hear is that women don't really matter, that their voices aren't heard, that their bodies aren't worth protecting.  All I can hear is a man saying what far too many women have been through isn't significant.

Guess what?  ALL rape, assault, harassment, unwanted touch is evil.  Every last bit of it.  If they didn't say yes, then it was forceable.  Every single time that someone is raped, whether by a stranger with a knife or a "nice guy" on a date who forgets his boundaries, it is a crime against her body and soul and is a legitimate rape.  No matter what, she walks away broken.  Physically, emotionally and spiritually broken. 

Fifty Shades of Heartbreak

It's the hottest book series on the market right now, Fifty Shades of Grey.  I heard it was like the adult version of Twilight, with lots of racy adult scenes.  I read the back cover and didn't seem too intrigued.  The intrigue came when a firestorm of a debate came on Facebook.

My friend was heavily attacked because she had read the book and enjoyed it.  Someone "unfriended" her sending an email criticizing this friends Christianity, her marriage, and her desire to read such wonton hussy books.  That did it.  My friend is one of the sweetest people on the planet.  She is kind and doesn't judge others.  She is an amazing woman, a wonderful wife to her military man and a fabulous mother to her girls.

I was pissed that she was judged so harshly (by someone who had not read the books, no less) and suddenly I wanted to read them.  I wanted to know what the big deal was.  The last things that sparked huge controversy in the Christian community ended up being series that I now love, Harry Potter and Twilight.  This, I expected, would be the same as those.

So here is my thoughts on the book, there is a bit of a spoiler alert but not much more than the review on ABC news and for some, this spoiler alert is needed.  I could have used it. 

The book is racy.  The part where they first have sex made me ravenous for my husband.  It created a physical response in me so unbelievably strong that I wished Hubby wasn't already asleep.  I'm not opposed to racy in a book.  I am opposed to this book though.

Christan Grey asked Ana to sign a contract allowing him to be her dominate and her to be his submissive.  The contract states that if she is not submissive to his every whim that he has authority to "discipline" her.  He has any number of ways that is accomplished, through a belt, a whip, a cat of nine tails, a cane etc.  He was made to be a submissive through his teenage years and that is where his dominating sexual appetite comes from. 

I had to close the book.  My heart was racing and not with desire.  My heart was racing with fear.  Now I have a wild side.  But this was just too much for me.  Memories flooded my mind.  I couldn't sleep and when I did it was not well.

This morning I picked the book up again.  I thought that possibly I had over-reacted.  Maybe I was just tired and that is what sparked those feelings.  Maybe Ana doesn't actually sign the contract.  Maybe it really is a love story like everyone said.  I started reading and felt that same sick pit in my stomach again.

I flipped later in the book.  He was beating her with a belt.  She was in her mind crying and begging him to stop but never saying a word.  (I also read the last few pages but I won't spoil that part for those of you who don't want to hear the end.) I can't do this book.  I pushed it away from me while the tears sprung up.  I understand the sexual appeal of some of the things in the book.  I cannot handle though, the physical aspect of how those sexual moments come to be.

I've been held down, unable to move while someone forces his hands on my body.  It wasn't love, that is for sure.  I've been hurt for not doing as I was told.  It isn't as glamorous as this book portrays.  I guess my thought is this, sometimes I do enjoy doing exactly as my husband says.  It can really be a turn on.  But he would never beat me if I didn't.  That is my issue.

How does loving someone ever mean wanting to beat them?  How does loving someone ever mean wanting them to hurt?  Submitting and hurting are different things.  I personally feel like it crossed the line into abuse.  I'm just not ok with it.  I'm not ok with telling other women that it is ok, good even,  to be beaten for sexual pleasure.

I'm sure that someone out there is going to bring up that Ana willingly signed the contract, that she desired to be hurt and that makes is why it is different from abuse.  I've heard that argument but I still can't go with it.  For me, in my life, coming from my past, this book is too close to the abuse that I suffered and I cannot bring myself to relive it from the perspective of someone who willingly subjects herself to it.  Your opinion may be different, and that is ok.  We can agree to disagree.

Right now I am nursing my fifty shades of broken heart.  Though I am not a spoiler alert kind of gal, I really wish someone has given me a spoiler alert.  I would have never read this book.  It was just too triggering for me.  I'll be ok, but I'm not right this moment.  I'm hurt.

I'm still married

I mentioned in my last post that staying married has been my greatest accomplishment in my life so far.  I also said I'd explain that comment, so here goes.

Ya'll already know my background so it isn't really a surprise when I say that the only way I really knew how to relate with men was either not at all or sexually.  The day I married Hubby was the day everything was going to be all better for me.  I had the unconditional love of an amazing man and I didn't need anything else.  We escaped to our hotel after the wedding and I locked myself in the bathroom with the guise of needing a bubble bath to help relax me because I was a little nervous.  Though I'd had sex and Hubby had had sex before, we hadn't had sex with each other so I really was a little nervous on my wedding night.

I took a really long bath, trying to avoid the inevitable.  I remember thinking "Oh my God.  I have to have sex with the same person for the rest of my life.  I don't know if I can do this."  I couldn't "relax" enough to do anything that night, I actually just cried.  Romantic night, huh, holding your new bride while she sobs in your arms instead of finally caressing the body you have spent years waiting for.  The next morning the same thoughts hit me.  And then this one, "Well, we haven't had sex yet so I could still get this annulled and then not break his heart by not being able to stay true." 

Rational? No. Legitimately what I thought? Yes. I had no idea how I was ever going to make it.  I was sure I didn't have what it took to be married, especially to such a great guy.  I spent years knowing I couldn't love him as much as he loved me.  I knew early on that if anything happened to me his world would stop but if anything happened to him I'd be sad and then move on.  I really wanted to feel like my world would stop if something happened to him but I couldn't.  I spent years wondering if he was going to get tired of loving more than he was loved and leave me.

In our first few months of marriage, my first test came along.  Hubby's boss.  Something about him sparked my interest.  In retrospect, I think I enjoyed his company and his sense of humor and didn't know how to respond to him in another way besides desire.  He had told us of the girl he had made out with who was someone's fiance.  I knew that if he could make out with his friend's fiance, he could make out with me, his friend's wife.  He didn't have that boundary in his head that would make me off limits.  My mind started concentrating on him a lot.  I desired him and knew that he wouldn't mind crossing that line and figured it could be a secret.

Here is where I realized that I did really love my Hubby not just loved that he loved me.  I would play in my mind having to tell him I had slept with his boss and could see how heartbroken he would have been.  I never wanted to be responsible for breaking his heart.  I held on to that fiercely.  It was my proof that I really loved him.  At least I loved him as much as I was capable of loving him.  I was pretty broken.  I worked in the same building as he did at the time.  I quit my job to avoid seeing and feeling for Hubby's boss on a daily basis.  I walked away from my greatest temptation because I didn't want to hurt Hubby.

I spent the first 3 years of our marriage waiting for the day when he would tire of my broken capacity for loving him and leave for a woman who had a whole heart to love him with.  During our infertility years I even told him if he wanted to leave me for a woman who could have his children that I would understand.  He still refers to that conversation as the only time he has ever been absolutely furious with me.  I knew that I loved him as much as I could, but I wondered if I would ever love him as much as he loved me, as much as he deserved to be loved.

I finally confessed all of this to him a couple of months ago.  Of course, he already knew, but it was nice to finally talk about it.  He wondered when we got married if I loved him or if I loved how he made me feel.  Did I love him or did I love being loved?  Did I love him or feeling safe?  Did I love him or that he would do anything to make me smile?  Did I love him or did I love that I didn't have to answer to my parents anymore?
Did I love him or that I was the center of someone's world finally?  He didn't know.  How could he, I didn't know. 

I would repeatedly find myself avoiding situations because I didn't want to have to tell him I'd been with another man.  Not wanting to hurt him was the proof of loving him that I clung too.  For far too long, it was all I had to assure myself that I loved him as much as I could.  As the years have passed, our friendship has deepened.  Our love has grown.  My love for him is genuine and deep now.  My world would stop if something happened to him.  I no longer need to cling to the fear of hurting him to prove to myself and him that I do love him.  It just flows naturally from every fiber of my being. 

We've known each other since I was 18 and I enjoy his company more than I even realized was possible back then.  Though I've been tempted in the past to step outside of our marriage, I no longer need the fear of telling him to be the thing that keeps me faithful.  I don't want to be with anyone else.  I don't think of other men in sexual terms anymore.  Hubby is my only lover and the only one I want to love for the rest of my life.  And I'm really thankful that he could see into my heart and love me even when I didn't know how to love him in return.

side effects

Remember when I first started my new medicine and swore that weight gain had to be a side effect, even though my doctor said it wasn't and the rx pamphlet didn't say it either?  Well I was right.  Last night while trying to find coupons for my name brand prescription, I stumbled across a forum for users of this medicine.  Bloating and weight gain was on everyone's list.  And now I see why I feel like I look pregnant.  GRRRRRRRR.......

Oh and there are other things that I never really thought about being from the medicine. Like I have been very annoyed lately, especially with Hubby.  He hasn't done anything wrong.  He hasn't done anything any different than he always does.  But I find myself feeling frustrated with him ALL THE TIME.  Let me tell you how much that sucks!  I can't even point a finger and say, "When you did_____ I felt______."  He's the best man alive and my best friend and yet I just feel annoyed with him.  That doesn't seem very fair.  But it isn't just him.  I'm getting really annoyed with bad drivers, with rude customers, and back talking youngins in the store.  Little things that didn't use to bug me, or if they did is was momentary, are really ruffling my feathers lately.

**TMI ALERT! If you don't want to hear about my sex life, skip this next paragraph!**

 
 It isn't supposed to have sexual side effects.  My libido is not gone completely, like on other meds I have tried.  We are still maintaining a pretty healthy sex life.  BUT I'm not having mind blowing, earth shattering orgasms anymore.  It's more like, "oh that was nice" but nothing that rocks my world.  I just assumed it was the ebb and flow of physical relationships.  You know, not every time is going to be earth shattering and that's ok.  It wasn't until I started reading in a vast majority of posts that people were still enjoying sex but were experiencing delayed orgasms or orgasms were stopping all together or,  like in my case, just getting weaker, that I realized that it has been a really long while since I've had a toe curling, peel me off the ceiling orgasm.  Again sorry for tmi, but it is bothering me and on my mind and oh yeah, I have no brain filter and have no problem discussing sex openly.  I like those toe curling, peel me off the ceiling orgasms!  I miss them!  I mentioned this to Hubby, he misses them too.

So my med works on the depression better than any other I've ever tried.  It is specifically made for MDD, the first one marketed directly for it.  I still feel sad but usually I can push through the sad.  I still feel social anxiety but I can manage it.  I'm not hopeless like I've been in the past.  But I'm also living a very boring, very safe life.  I'm always annoyed, I'm not enjoying the full extent of orgasms anymore (I'm sure those have nothing to do with one another ; ) ! )  and I feel fat all the time.  Is this really what my life has amounted to?  Am I really doomed to wander a mediocre but tolerable existence forever?  I guess it is better than a highly depressed, can't pull myself out of bed kind of existence.  I just want more from life.  Maybe I want too much.  Maybe wanting to love my life not just tolerate it is just more than I should dare to ask for?

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.

physical sensations

I'm still struggling with my body.  I'm still not quite ready for Hubby to touch me.  My body physically tingles.  It is not the same as when my body tingles with desire for my husband.  It is a different kind of physical sensation.  I don't even know how to explain it.  It is definitely in my physical body but it is different from desire and passion.  It is a sensation that makes me feel vulnerable rather than desirable. It is a sensation that makes me feel like everyone else is as aware of my body as I am.  Is this unique to those of us who have experienced sexual trauma or do others sometimes feel like their body would cringe at the touch of a man?  Not indifference towards sex, just not in the mood, too much else to do that you forget that sex actually would be nice, like every woman at some point feels, but rather complete and total aversion to sex.  I know this feeling is one sexual trauma victims understand, I just wonder if it is normal for all women. 

Has your body ever tingled with disgust rather than desire?

dot to dot pictures

If only you could actually hear the big sigh that I just let out.  I had another "aha" moment today.  I connected the dots again to find I'm not crazy about the picture they draw.  BUT at least I know what the picture is and can finally work with it.  So if you have followed me from the beginning, you know that my struggle began when I was 14.  At that point in time it was a body image, want to be what someone else wants me to be, supreme insecurity issue.  I was 17 when things got really bad.  There was something significant going on in my life then, something that triggered me.  I was being sexually molested by my boss at work.  He would follow me into the freezer and talk dirty and fondle me.  He was disgusting but because he was my boss I didn't know how to make it stop and I was scared.  The only way out that I could see was to leave my job and I did.

I know I have shared some of this in an early blog but for the sake of new readers, I'm going to condense it and tell it again.  The day I came in to pick up my last check, this manager was there.  He followed me out to the parking lot and started making lewd comments.  I kept walking.  He forced me to turn around, violently kissed me and then slammed me against the car.  As my mind was racing looking for a way out, he started to grope me again.  When I started to cry, he informed me that I shouldn't be crying because I obviously liked his attention because my body physically responded to him.  I was so incredibly furious with my body and felt like it had betrayed me.  How could my mind so forcefully reject what he was doing but my body still react to his touch?  I was disgusted with my own body.

Now fast forward a bunch of years later to me as a grown woman sitting in a mental hospital.  While in the hospital, I was required to speak with a therapist.  The therapist who I happened to be paired with was a very right vs. wrong, abrupt, older man.  He was actually quite a jerk, to be honest.  I answered his questions.  I told him my history.  I told him about this situation.  And being a dumbass, he asked me what I meant by my body responded.  Really?  He's older, he wore a wedding ring, and yet doesn't know in what ways a woman's body could respond to a man's touch???????  So in my most annoyed and sarcastic tone, I bluntly looked at him and crudely  informed him of what had happened.  The response infuriated me.  He informed me that I should not have felt guilty for that response.  It is an "autonomic response" that I had no control over so therefore I should not feel shame or guilt for having such a response.  What kind of therapist tells their patient that their feelings weren't valid?  Who tells you how you should feel? 

Ok, another rabbit trail to lead to my "aha moment".  About a year ago, I realized (rather suddenly and surprisingly) that I had allowed some of my intimate moments with my husband to be highly influenced by this intense need to be in control of my body.  So, at that point I wasn't acting out with my eating disorder but I was still acting out and needing an obsessive amount of control over my own body.

Today I saw my chiropractor.  He does acupuncture as well as adjustments.  When he was about to start the acupuncture, I asked him if his little magic needles could cure anything.  I asked if there were points that would stimulate appetite. He originally said he would do a few to help with food cravings.  No, no, no, I don't need to get rid of cravings, I need to gain a few!  He told me that was quite a bit more difficult because the body's automatic response is to desire food especially when under stress.  It is what my body should naturally do for itself.

Have you connected the dots?  All three of those stories have to do with automatic physical responses.  I was so traumatized by my body responding against my will all those years ago that I have fought it since to maintain a high level of control that my body "cannot" (be allowed to) have an automatic/autonomic response.  If my body acts on its own, I lose control and it could hurt me again.  I fight tooth and nail against anything my body may want to do that doesn't first have my permission.  Being hungry is just one more thing that I don't allow until it is on my terms.  Somewhere deep inside I think I am wondering, "But what happens if my body betrays me again?"