While catching up on the sexy blogs I like to read (Bondage Blog, Spanking Blog and Eros Blog) I stumbled across the pseudonym of the guy who assaulted me. I can’t fucking escape him! Sounds like he’s still busy seducing much younger women. Whatta scuzz as someone once commented on this blog. (Still curious to know who left that comment. Anyone, anyone, Bueller?) I suppose he has to get them while they’re naive. Very few people on this planet disgust me like he does. Scum.
Otherwise I’m hanging in there. Still ups and downs with free-floating anxiety. My therapist has the theory that since things are going well and I’m feeling strong that my subconscious is dredging up stuff to deal with now that I have the strength. Doesn’t sound too far fetched actually. I’m trying to take the tranquilizer only when absolutely needed. Tempted to now after having the assault dredged up again, but I think I’m strong enough to ride this out. I refuse to let him lower my quality of life any more. Bastard.
I seem extra anxious this week. I worry about every little thing. Sometimes that worrying is rooted in a valid worry - i.e., the Irishman is married just as my gut feeling told me and I don’t know for sure if he’s telling the truth about it being an open marriage or if he’s lying to me. Other worries, are less rooted in reality.
I got an email from the Latina. A long friendly one where she takes the time to address anything I mentioned in my last email from a few days ago. She addresses one issue and at first I read it as her being ok with the idea of some risk. I was overjoyed and ran into the kitchen to tell Davey. But then, I started overthinking her words and wondered if I read it right. I had Davey read the email and he insists I’m just being paranoid. I’ve re-read the email and half the time I think I’m being paranoid the other half of the time I think I interpreted her words wrong the first time. *sigh* She leaves in a few days on vacation, so I hope that I hear back from her before then so I can put my fears to rest and know what the deal is.
I’m such a worrier. I hate this. I used to scoff at my grandmother when she’d worry about any and everything, but meanwhile I’m not all that different than she is. I think I’m going through a particularly anxious time right now, and that at another point in time I’d be on a more even keel. I’m starting to wonder if my meds are exactly right for me or if they need further tweaking. Or better yet, if I just need to find a way to work through being anxious all the time.
The week seems to be going downhill, in stark contrast to how happy and optimistic I felt last weekend. Granted, I think having memories of the assault triggered have put me in a funk, and I’m probably looking at this much more darkly than I should. I just want to move on and not have it affect my life anymore!
I mentioned to J. how the assault came up in conversation with L. and his email back included the sentence, “Tell me more about the assault.” So now I’m thinking, “Great, this will somehow be a strike against me. He won’t want to fool around with someone who is willing to say that someone assaulted her. He’s probably worried that one wrong move and I’d say the same thing about him.” And that’s not the case. I’ve been coerced and pressured into sex more times than I can count, but I only count one time as rape and one time as assault. Both those instances were clearly above and beyond the others. At least with pressure and coercion I made the choice to give in. There was still choice involved. With the rape and the assault, my option to choose was taken away from me.
I’m a world-class worrier, like my grandmother was, so telling me to just chill and not worry won’t work. I’m trying to stop worrying. I know I’m making this into a bigger deal than it probably is. I wish I could just put that goddamned assault behind me permanently. All that work in therapy, I seemed to be much better (hell, I’m horny as I sit here and write this - something I didn’t feel much of for a while) and now it’s come up to the surface again, like a floating mass of pond scum from the depths. I need an extra strong filter to get rid of it, asap.
I just want to be my happy-go-lucky, slutty, horny self again. I’m almost there - in some ways I’m there. But I need to get past these current hurdles.
As recent as early Monday, I blogged here that “life is good.” Today I feel like life is shit.
No, that’s not entirely true, but I’m feeling free floating anxiety that threatens to keep me awake tonight despite medication to help me sleep. One degree of separation from the man who assaulted me was too close for comfort. And wondering where J. (the Irishman) has gone to as he hasn’t emailed me since Saturday even has me feeling dark.
I fucking hate drama. Maybe I’d be smart to not date. Just stick with Davey and have done with it. But then I don’t think that would make me happy either. I keep reminding myself that nothing ventured is nothing gained but it feels like I keep hitting a wall every time I try to venture out into the world. Home seems so safe and secure and the outside world threatens to intrude.
I’m sure I’ll get through this (thank the non-existent god I’m medicated). But I just want to be happy for once without anxiety intruding. It’s starting to feel like I’m hard-wired for anxiety and post traumatic symptoms. Little triggers are around every corner. It’s been nearly two years now, why the fuck aren’t I just over this?? One little thing sets off a chain reaction and I fall down. Boom.
I hope I manage to sleep tonight. Drowsiness is starting to set in, so maybe there’s medicated hope.
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