Disclosure at new depths (TW).


Thursday afternoon procrastination is something I know well. It is a time for therapy preparation and that is not something that I usually look forward to. I have a little less time today, due to working a longer shift. However there is certainly adequate time, should I set my mind to it. Except, that I am doing everything but.. I have cleaned a little, re arranged my flowers, taken care of my boys, made a drink, had a snack, put laundry away etc. etc. And now I am here, in the hopes that blogging about my thoughts will be enough.

I am having body memories, ongoing on and off since my last therapy session. Partly connected to my last session and some that seem disconnected right now, however it’s likely once I face it, I will find myself saying “Oh yeah, now I get why I was feeling that”.

I am back and forth between cramps- as if I were having a period and more recently, jaw/ mouth pain. The jaw and mouth pain isn’t something I usually like to admit to, mostly, because I’ve always been embarrassed and ashamed. As someone who has been a victim of rape, to talk about a body memory that includes jaw pain, it is pretty obvious what caused it. And that has always caused me much embarrassment and shame. Now I feel I can be frank. I am in pain because my body is remembering the brutal oral rapes I suffered. 

That I can be open and honest- here and with the right people- shows progress, I think? It shows that the shame has shifted somewhat, doesn’t it? I am able to admit something that previously would have me muted by such embarrassment. That has to be progress. Understandable, of course, it seems to be the way with sexual abuse particularly, but staying silent only serves to further my own discomfort and suffering. 

Body memories and flashbacks, nightmares and triggers, usually mean I need to talk about a memory with my T. Often a first disclosure, or at least re examining a previously disclosed memory, normally at a new depth. What is going on for me is both, I suppose. It’s not like others however.. these are unclear, intertwining memories.

It isn’t like I haven’t talked about oral rape with my T before, because I have, but as I blogged the other day, there are more details that need out. It’s not limited to oral rape, the stuff that is getting to me is the “day to day” stuff he did. It isn’t the big memories that sort of stand alone in my head, but the mass of memories that I haven’t been able to unpick. They are all so messy, in terms of what I remember.. things that happened all the time, over and over.


*Trigger warning. Survivors, please be careful.. I haven’t been overly detailed, but it does refer to my sexual abuse. *

*Friends and family, please be warned. If you don’t want to know about my abuse, please do not read any further.*


This stuff is close to the aspects of abuse where the control was at it’s peak. Hence my apprehension.

It was as if I was owned by him. Where I had to seek his permission for the most basic of things and do sick and horrible things  in the hopes that the permission would be granted- which it often wasn’t. This was abuse that I suffered most days/ nights when I was 14. My body was a mess from his continued rapes/ sexual assaults and the only way of coping with the pain was to create a world of my own to escape in.

These things require a new level of disclosure. Things my T is aware of from previous discussions but not at the level I need him to be. These memories need out, but in order to purge myself of the trauma that remains, I know that I have to be detailed, more so than I have ever been before.

How do I do that? It is hard enough to describe the way in which I was abused- to use the horrible words necessary to describe rape… but more details, of humiliation, of pain, of the disgusting things I remember..God, how do I tell him?

I have to find a way, because what was previously enough, simply isn’t any longer. Because I feel, more than I ever have and I guess it makes sense that what worked before is no longer sufficient. I am finding that I need to tell differently, slower than before and at a new and deeper level. 

It’s kinda funny (weird, not ha ha), how I spent years hiding this, with an absolutely desperate need to keep it all inside and now it’s quite the opposite.. the need to tell goes so deep, I feel like I have little control over it. Strangely, it kinda reminds me of childbirth.. where it doesn’t matter how much it hurts, no amount of fighting will stop that baby coming out. Your body takes over and does what it needs to do.. this is so similar in that way. My body and my mind have always known what to do to protect me, they have saved me a thousand times over. The urge to get all this out is taking over, my body is hurting and my heart is aching. I trust myself and so I will follow this instinct, which tells me, that it doesn’t matter if I refuse and it doesn’t matter how much I fight it, this stuff will come out one way or another. 


Cold. The Unspeakable and other stuff.

I feel I should do some kind of new year post. You know the sort, where you reflect over the previous year- the highs, the lows, the changes, the progress. Except, I just can’t muster enough within me to examine all that the last year was for me. I am too tired and too.. well UGH (I am yet to find the language to describe the things that I feel).

In general, I am doing a little better. Better than the hell of October, better than the weeks surrounding the worst flashback I have ever experienced. Better than just before Christmas, when work stuff was making me ill. Better even than Christmas, where I was up and down like a frigging yo- yo.

So, better.. but it’s all relative isn’t it? Better than shit. Better than traumatised.

Honestly, I am tired, I hurt more than I ever thought possible and I am triggered often- I see him and I feel him.

All. The. Fucking. Time.

This morning, as I got dressed I swear, I felt him right behind me. The touch of his shirt upon my exposed skin, ugh…. oh God, he could be so fucking cruel. And just like then, it has left me cold. A cold that will not leave me today. The sort of cold that no amount of warmth can chase away.

It’s so damn tiring. Just like this morning, there have been numerous connections and associations lately, that barely even make sense. Innocent things that lead me back to him and what he did. It’s worse than it used to be because it’s not disconnected, numbness. It’s not even trauma. Instead it’s pain, anguish and grief. And such strong feelings of nausea at the truth of what he did.

The more I feel and the closer I come to true acceptance of what he did, the harder it becomes to talk about it all. And just lately, I have realised that even after all I have told my T, there are some things that I don’t think I can ever say. The details I never thought I needed to disclose, need out, but they are words that should never be uttered aloud, these are sentences that should not even exist. They are unspeakable.

I miss my T, it’s been a while- but I don’t think I can be be real with him, or anyone right now.

Freedom from Shame?

I have therapy tomorrow, I hope to be able to tell my T what I could not last week, but that may be wishful thinking. I am aware the wall that I experienced last week is still there and I’m also aware it is there for a reason. It may be that I’m just not ready and I think that is ok. I don’t want to face anything I am not completely ready for, I have to be prepared, I have to be able to function afterwards. If I cannot get over this wall yet, then I suppose I need to trust myself that I am simply not ready yet. 

Perhaps I am rushing too fast, there’s lots to tell him even within this one part I was trying to disclose last week. I may need to slow down a little more and tackle one fragment of memory at a time. I’m keen to get it out, I want to feel some release, this shame is getting to me, it’s not a new feeling, but the basis of it is new. The way in which has me in it’s clutches is frightening for me. My self esteem has plummeted, I am struggling with feelings I thought I’d let go a long time ago. On the upside, even after a flashback earlier this week, the PTSD has been a little more manageable since Friday.

We will see what tomorrow brings. 


As she took a deep breath

waiting for the words to fall out

there was nothing to be heard

not even a whisper.

Her breathing hard

and then faster still

until she was dizzy

and could barely see.


Trapped inside her throat

the words caught there

the truth of what was,

the horror back then.

But the reality was so terrible

she just couldn’t explain,

she would not let the words out

perhaps for fear of his disdain


She didn’t realise it then,

but the shame is in the details,

the depravity of actions

and humiliation of pain.

The inability to escape,

and the resolve to always be

and in the endless depravity.

Stuck in a forever cycle


where wounds could not heal

and pain would not subside

and her voice was never heard

no matter how much she tried

And even now she’s silenced

still trapped behind a wall

and imprisoned by the shame

All these years on and it’s still the same.


But tomorrow brings new beginnings

renewed hope and second chances

A chance to find her voice

to confront the lies

he forced upon her,

to reveal the truth within her

the truth that will bring release,

and the freedom from her shame.


Tor – ture

Milling it over

rolling over your tongue

Passing your lips

stinging at its release


Just a set of sounds

strung together.

Separately mere noise

just two lonely syllables.


But inside a courtship

dancing with one another

separate no longer

they take their vows.


Realisation hits

clasping your hand

to cover that escape

a futile attempt


For it cannot be unspoken

they are together now,

and cannot be torn apart

Their marriage. Your truth.