Interrupted
My Life Thus Far
He Always Came In The Night
I think I'm reaching a turning-point in this depressive episode (the fact that I can even identify that I'm in a depressive episode is progress, but that's not what we're discussing here). I got out of bed today... at a reasonable hour... and I was genuinely happy for the majority of the day... AND when I encountered an upsetting situation, I handled it well, and got over it! Go me! See, progress. I'll elaborate later.
Snookums did something I can't recall him ever doing in our entire marriage. If he has, I don't remember. So, basically never... He woke me up at 3am. For sex. I was sleeping peacefully and was gently awakened by the faintest touch. First my face, then my chest. Then down my stomach and into my panties. My first instinct was to go to my safe place. The place I used to go when real life got too painful. I know Snookums has no way of knowing this (because I've never told him), but when my stepfather would come to rape me, that's how it would start. He always came in the night. And he was always gentle. Almost like it didn't actually happen, because it was the most fleeting encounters. Ending in climax, and his silent exit. If I hadn't gotten pregnant, I'd probably still doubt it ever happened.
I had a very intense internal dialogue with myself as my husband tried getting me to respond to his touch. When my stepfather touched me, I knew it was wrong. I knew I wasn't supposed to enjoy it. But I did, and I had a tough time understanding why. In my mind I felt like the dirtiest slut, but my body thought it was the best thing ever. I craved it. Being 12, 13, 14 years old, my hormones were all over the place. I was just coming into sexual maturity. I shouldn't have been put in that situation, and here I am at 34 years old - laying in bed with my husband - having to remind myself that it's okay to want sex. It's okay to enjoy it. It's okay to submit to his touch. To allow him inside me. I don't need to resist... and I can fully embrace the moment.
So, I did that. I rolled to face him, parted my legs a little so his fingers could slide in... and I enjoyed the moment. It was both beautiful and dirty. Slightly rough, a little loud, but beautiful because after what feels like a lifetime of being haunted by the ghosts of my past, I can FINALLY put it behind me. I think I have for the most part. But every once in awhile triggers pop up. Last night was a definite trigger, but I didn't let it stop me from enjoying what is rightfully mine; my sexuality. The love of my husband. The physical manifestation of the deep connection we have with one another... and whatever issues he was having, he seems to be overcoming. The past few encounters have been... explosive. So powerful and passionate. He's getting his confidence back and it's paying off in spades.
I woke up this morning feeling so great. The dark cloud wasn't waiting for me when I opened my eyes. I was very peaceful. Keenan wasn't feeling well and decided he needed to stay home and sleep (he was warm to the touch and looked sickly). I wanted to hike, and as selfish as it sounds, I deserve to do what makes me whole whenever I can. So daddy took morning duty while I went on a little hike, and I came home and took afternoon/evening duty. He slept all morning and well into the afternoon. When he woke up, I gave him a little fever reducer (because he was visibly uncomfortable and so very hot to the touch), and he seemed to bounce back really well after that. Tomorrow morning we'll evaluate his condition and see how he's doing. He's missed so much school this winter, I hope he's okay to go back.
The two situations that tested me: Keenan being sick when I'd planned to hike, and Kiki breaking my favorite cat mug, didn't trigger a "whoa is me" response. I was able to accept the situation and move on. I have so much gratitude to the universe for allowing me to come through this. I know there's nothing preventing me from sliding back into the depths, but for now I'm just going to appreciate that I'm doing better. Day by day. One at a time. Cautious optimism.
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