taking a break

Some things have happened. Nothing major. I’m still mostly apathetic and not really into being alive right now. Not that I want to be dead; I definitely don’t. The world is just mostly in sepia tones and I’m trying to really concentrate on the bright spots, in part because I’ve realized that I’ve still got some Lora issues to work through. When I’m not dealing with those, I’m trying to draw some color and brightness back into my life.

So I think I’m going to take a break from blogging. I haven’t blogged about poly things, for the most part, in a long, long time. This blog definitely helped me through some of the hardest emotional shit that I’ve ever dealt with in my life. Writing here and journaling are really the two things that got me through on some days. Continue reading taking a break

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apathy

It’s taken nearly two weeks to make this post, which is a great way to set the mood for it. I just didn’t have the mood or the will. I had apathy.

I have apathy.

That is the word that my therapist and I hit on to describe the way I feel these days. I’m filled with apathy. Going through the motions. Not excited by anything. Just…here, counting down the days until I die.

My therapist wanted to focus on why I might feel apathetic. What was it about being sexually assaulted that specifically generated these feelings of apathy. Was it that I froze? Was it that I’m now afraid that I’ll freeze again in the future? That I won’t take care of myself when I most need me to take action to take care of myself? Continue reading apathy

small positive gains

I know I mentioned that I disclosed to my doctor and my physical therapist about my sexual assault. What I think I forgot to mention is that part of what I talked to them about was taking some time off from PT. While I can’t actually…get a temporary postponement in disability (and become magically healthy for a few months) to focus on my emotional problems,  I realized that I did need some time away from this constant focus on my physical health. My doc and my PT agreed that taking some time off to try to just scrape by with the minimum in stretching exercises would be a reasonable thing to try.

So I took about a month off, to work on my emotions. Continue reading small positive gains

More Than Two commentary – Chapter Four: Tending Your Self (part 5a – prologue to my dark night of the soul)

I went away to college.

I was a mess. I didn’t know why David stopped loving me. I didn’t know what I did wrong. I worried that I was a terrible person, flawed, messed up. Also, I’d had per-marital sex. A lot of it. With someone I wasn’t going to marry! I felt incredibly guilty about that. I’d let God down. I also felt betrayed by David, who knew how I felt about sex. Surely, if he wasn’t 100% sure that we were getting married, he wouldn’t have pushed to have sex. What happened? Maybe it was my fault; as he kept getting to know me, he saw that I was flawed, and so he changed his mind about marrying me. And now I was even more flawed, because of all this sex I’d had.

These are the thoughts of an eighteen year old in regards to sex with she had absolutely no concept of consent or her right to dictate what is done with her own body. All I had to go on, in terms of “right” and “wrong” were things I’d learned in the church. And according to the church, I’d done a whole bunch of wrong. Continue reading More Than Two commentary – Chapter Four: Tending Your Self (part 5a – prologue to my dark night of the soul)

doing worse than I expected

I’m having a really hard time dealing with what happened. I noticed on the bus ride home today that I’m having a really negative reaction to all romantic relationships. I’m not sure what to do.

A woman sat next to me on the bus today. She was with her boyfriend. He stood over her, and they held hands and were talking about how things were progressing. They’d recently met a few close friends/family of each other and were talking about how that went, as well as talking about who would be around next to meet, tips on subjects that the new family member/friend like talking about, things like that.

Normally, this is the kind of conversation that sounds incredibly sweet and exciting and nostalgic to me. Much as I adore having years now together with Jon and all the shared history we’ve built up, I still love remembering those exciting first days when we were getting to know each others friends and family. Being reminded of that is usually lovely.

Today is was nauseating. Continue reading doing worse than I expected

reactions

There were several reactions that came from my letter.

The first was that another female student (Inez) contacted Andrea (who had resigned over email the day before I sent my letter), to ask what was going on with Andrea and me. Inez and Andrea had been pretty friendly in class, so Inez was really surprised at Andrea abruptly dropping out without saying something first.

Andrea explained the two instances of what happened with her, and what happened with me. Inez (who is married; Andrea is divorced, and as we all know, I’m poly) responded basically by saying “Yeah, I knew he was a dirtball, but I didn’t know how much of one he was. Once when I walk talking about my husband I having an argument, Teacher let me know that he and his wife ‘barely had a marriage anymore’ and that he was ‘available’. I cut him off before he went any further, told him that was TMI, and I never wanted to hear about the subject of his marriage again. And I never brought mine up again when he was around.” Continue reading reactions

therapy

I had therapy last week. It was a good session. My therapist had already had some really great points and thoughts about previous problems with Lora, so hearing some great realizations from her about this sexual assault was not surprising, but extremely comforting. Especially since I had been really, really stressed about talking to her.

I keep expecting people to judge me. I’ve been judged before after sexual assault and that’s still often the general societal response. I mean, I judge me, mainly for freezing. Why wouldn’t someone else? Continue reading therapy