Through The Ghost

I initially wrote this as a combination of a journal entry and a letter to the sub and the sailor (the sub’s girlfriend and my submissive-esque person – we are still defining it). I am editing it to both redact names and such, as well as adding more information because I think it needs to be added. I broadstroked this in an attempt to cover so much territory, but it needs more than broadstroking.

5/17/16: My sense of time and clarity of memory are both hazy, but I will do my best to explain the last few days.

A few days ago, I had multiple memories resurface, involving sexual abuse from my father. I am not ready to share the details of that abuse, but the timeline of it basically indicates that my attraction to my father (unearthed a few months ago) stemmed from the abuse beginning at such a young age.

During the couple of days surrounding the recovery of these memories, I exchanged emails with my aunt, a fellow abuse victim and DID sufferer who has done an incredible job of facing her issues and healing over the years. I got some very frightening information from her about both my father (her older brother) and other extended family history of horrific abuse and memory blocks. The abuse that I suffered was generational, and the woman who is my paternal grandmother (I refuse to call her Grandma anymore), passed this Evil through our family, down to her 6 children, their twenty + children, and their dozens of childrens’ children. I swear, if our family were willing to talk to therapists about this stuff (most of them refuse to even face the reality of what happened), we could make some psychiatrist’s career.

In the same time frame, my ex fiancé and first Dominant/Master (we will call him Eric for the purposes of this post) got in touch with me, wanting to make amends and spend some time together. We have barely spoken in the decade since I left him, save for a few isolated chance meetings, each of which has been either awkward or based on one of us trying to walk away with the upper hand or feeling like we “won”. I agreed to this meeting because it seemed to be based on better motives; Eric’s mother recently passed away and he said he was reaching out to the people that he has hurt over the years and make amends. I respected that and thought it could be good for both of us, so we agreed to spend several hours together on Monday.

On Saturday, “The Sub” asked me about scheduling a date with “The Sailor” for Tuesday. I knew I was in a completely unstable place emotionally after the revelations about my father, but felt guilty for how much my problems had gotten in the way of them spending time together lately (neither he or I had gotten to see her in person in over a month, much of that due to me dealing with issues and needing him for support).  Since I had no way of knowing when I would be in a better place (healing is kind of an indefinite process, and I never know when something new will come to the surface), I just sort of resigned myself to it and said it was okay, even though I felt abandoned in my hour of need. I know that it was wrong of me to not communicate my fears, and I wish I had done a better job of it. Perhaps things would have gone differently had I communicated just how bad of a place I was in. Paige, my alter that went into hiding (Read my post Little Girl Gone for more information on that), went into hysterics when I did so, still not feeling that the miscommunication between her and “The Sub” was resolved, and she was afraid of them having a date when she still hadn’t found somewhere solid to land with him (Paige is unfortunately almost an afterthought here, compared to everything else, but I want an honest account of events that is as time accurate as possible).

On Saturday night, “The Sub” and I attempted a confession-style scene to help me get some of the recovered memories voiced and out of my head. Our headspaces didn’t proceed as we expected, with the end result being that by around 5 AM Sunday morning, I was in full out “Drop”. I pulled myself together to see the kiddo on Sunday morning (he stayed home from church to watch movies with me, a worthy exchange when we get too little time together as is), and then I took a 5 hour nap Sunday afternoon. That was the only sleep I got from 9 pm on Saturday until 6 pm on Monday. While I routinely pull 50 hour days, I believe that my sleep deprivation was a big factor in the events that followed, and my judgment about them.

I had already resigned myself to the fact that I wasn’t going to be stable or emotionally okay with anything after the revelations about my Dad, at least not for a while, and that I needed to power through various life things and responsibilities in spite of my emotional state. This was, in retrospect, a big part of where things went wrong: I was trying to force myself through things that can’t just be forced through or pushed down or ignored. So I okayed the date, decided not to postpone with Eric, and decided not to ask “The Hubby”  if we could celebrate our anniversary a week after the fact (it was approaching on Wednesday, and so I was gearing up for handling my ex on Monday, trying to stay stable through the date between “The Sub” and the “The Sailor” on Tuesday, and then trying to be in a good mental place for my anniversary with “The Hubby” on Wednesday). Looking back, thinking that I could handle all of that in such a short period of time, and under such mental duress, was completely unrealistic of me.

Monday, I saw Eric. I felt remarkably (and suspiciously, looking back on it), stable and okay with things at first. We had breakfast at a cozy restaurant, before going back to his place, where we talked about Prince passing away, and I played with his new puppy. Everything seemed okay at first.

The next few hours are a bit of a blur. He made various physical or sexual advances. Every time I told him no, or that things were getting too heated, or that I needed to stop, he immediately respected that and stopped. But he kept going back to it, and the disparity between respecting my limits and then immediately trying to break through them again made me feel  like I was the one doing something wrong, even though the logical part of my brain (now) knows that the “stop and start” tactic was still him not respecting my consent. I felt incredibly guilty coming out of it, as if I had cheated, as if I were my dad or had done something to cause it, and I didn’t feel as though my discomfort or fear during the acts made it nonconsensual, because I had kind of frozen up and gone into this trance-like feeling where I couldn’t put a label on my fear and discomfort. He called me by the slave name he had given me when we were together, which had a stronger impact on me than I imagined was possible. I was taken completely off guard by his ability to psychologically manipulate me, telling me throughout my discomfort how at ease I seemed, and backing off just enough for me to relax before starting up again. I don’t know how I rationalized his behavior to myself when I have always known better than to consider something like that consensual.

We left his house and went to the park, and the time at the park was weirdly nice. Everything seemed fine, as if what had happened before was all a dream. We talked and hung out, and he didn’t do anything untoward. I took a Xanax at the park, not even sure why I needed it; I think my body knew how “not okay”, sleep deprived, and traumatized I was by what had just happened, even if my conscious mind was unaware of it.

Eric dropped me off at home and I initially felt great about the day, though guilty for having gone farther than I wanted to. My mood was up, and I was rather jovial. After about 15 minutes, it started to crumble a bit, and “The Sub” offered to give me some time alone if I needed it. I said yes, even though I still partially felt like I was fine and didn’t need it.

As soon as he was out the door, I was sobbing.

Once alone, I tried to write out what specifically had happened with Eric, and in what order. I discovered I couldn’t write it in order; the haze surrounding everything that had happened was too powerful. I felt completely mindfucked. I knew that if anyone else were reading what I was writing, they would call it molestation or sexual/BDSM assault without hesitation, but I felt so culpable, like I had cheated instead of having been taken advantage of by someone that knew exactly which of my buttons to push. I fell asleep crying, still not having told “The Hubby” or “The Sub” full or even partial details. I could tell I was dissociating, and my feelings about what had happened with Eric were so clouded by guilt that I couldn’t even remember the events properly.

I woke up around 5 or 6 am on Tuesday, immediately crying and feeling very disoriented. I messaged “The Sub” about what had happened, since I had mentioned briefly the night before that Eric had tried some stuff (that was all I could definitively spell out at the time). The more we talked, the more clear it became that I was excusing Eric’s behavior and victim-shaming myself. At one point I referred to myself as a “broken whore”. At another point I almost typed that “I shouldn’t have dressed the way I did, and what else should I have expected?”. “The Sub” rightly pointed out that I would normally slap myself for thinking like that, which kind of snapped me out of it a bit and allowed me to see it more for what it was. He helped me tell “The Hubby”, and they have both been incredibly supportive of me.

It is still hard for me to talk about what I remembered of how my father sexually abused me, but the memories are more solid now, and don’t feel like they are going to waft away on the next breeze, which is its own kind of relief. It was painfully exposing, but I was able to share much of what happened between Eric and I, and the basic gist of what happened with my father, to “The Sailor”, and she was very supportive as well, despite a few things she said stinging a bit. I even managed to tell her about some of the other revelations about my father, which I didn’t expect to have the courage to do, and I’m quietly and painfully proud of. I was afraid that she would be judgmental, and I was afraid of how exposed the conversation would make me feel. But I want to heal more than I am afraid of the process, and I’m glad I pushed myself to talk to her about it. There are specifics that I haven’t shared yet with anyone, and the thought of sharing them is terrifying. But I am trying, and I’m not giving up.

The one thing I do know is that I’m not okay and I can’t pretend that I am. I can’t just try to power through all of this stuff and be fine. It’s all too big for that, and I’m hurting myself by trying to be “okay” when I’m not.

So this is me trying to tell the truth as best as I can, in spite of how afraid I am to talk about any of it. I will not quit, I will not stop. I am not going to turn into my father by burying my pain. I am strong enough to face this, and I will. This isn’t the end of my story; it is the beginning. It only ends when I give up, and that will never happen. I am stronger than that; I just need to remember that.

An Anonymous Outsider

Through The Ghost by Shinedown

Speak of the devil
Look who just walked into the room
The guilted and faded
Notion of someone I once knew

All the perfect moments are wrong
All the precious pieces are gone
Everything that mattered is just
A city of dust
Covering both of us

Did you hide yourself away?
I can’t see you anymore
Did you eclipse another day?
I used to wake up to the colour of your soul

Did you hide yourself away?
Are you living through the ghost?
Did you finally find a place
Above the shadows so the world will never know?
The world will never know you like I do

So many silent sorrows
You never hear from again
And now that you’ve lost tomorrow
Is yesterday still a friend?

All the bridges we built were burned
Not a single lesson was learned
Everything that mattered is just
A city of dust
Covering both of us

Did you hide yourself away?
I can’t see you anymore
Did you eclipse another day?
I used to wake up to the colour of your soul

Did you hide yourself away?
Are you living through the ghost?
Did you finally find a place
Above the shadows so the world will never know?
The world will never know you like I do

Like I still do

Did you hide yourself away?
I can’t see you anymore
Did you eclipse another day?
I used to wake up to the colour of your soul

Did you hide yourself away?
Are you living through the ghost?
Did you finally find a place
Above the shadows so the world will never know?
The world will never know you…

 

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