Friday: Today I’m grateful for feeling…
Connected and warm after talking intimately with a coworker. We seem to have broken down whatever wall remained between us. I shared about my SIA work, she shared about surviving cancer and being kidnapped as a child. I’ve been hoping to be closer to her for a while but not pushing it. Today’s encounter came up so naturally and took us both by surprise. I’m grateful for all the emotionally aware people that work with me, and that I have a job that gives me time to get to know them.
Successful and meaningful after facilitating a great SIA meeting. I feel like I’m making a difference, like I can foster an environment of comfort and vulnerability. The shares today were so heart-wrenching and deeply honest. I wish they could see themselves as I see them, to know they are brave and are beautiful and that they’ve made progress just since the time I’ve known them. I’m grateful to have a chance to facilitate this kind of environment and serve in the healing journey of my fellow survivors. I need to find a job that makes me feel like this. How can I increase the amount of people I can provide this feeling for?
Triggered as shit after reading a part of my Reclaiming Pleasure book. Halfway through the description of a survivor’s sexual abuse, I realized I couldn’t see what was in front of me anymore and I couldn’t feel my legs. There was a burning sensation in my vagina that I couldn’t bear, not from the pain but from the torture of it. Like having an itch deep in your ear, it’s encased in your body and completely unreachable but it’s also all you can feel/think about. This burning throbbed too, a pain that felt like it pushed up my spinal cord. I had to stop where I was and just breathe, do grounding techniques. One moment I was on my couch reading, the next moment my entire body felt violated, used. To me, this is a sign that I should be reading this book but fuck do I hate this.
Grief again during sex with Cubu. For this one, he finished first but stuck around to be a part of my orgasm. This isn’t an unusual pattern for us but this time I just couldn’t take it, I couldn’t stand touching myself. I was trying so hard that I started just crying. After brute forcing my way to orgasm, I burst into wailing and he just held me, telling me I’m safe and loved. I felt flooded with devastation at the loss of security with my body, at the fear I have of pleasure, at the abuse I endured. I kept apologizing, embarrassed to have “ruined it” but Cubu made sure I knew that I hadn’t ruined anything. I’m thankful for the progress I’ve made, because this crying is progress, and for being with such an excellent partner.
Amped up if not distractible by Spanish. I manage to fit in probably an hour of Spanish practice each day. Originally I increased it so my Costa Rica-related excitement had something useful to do. Recently I think I’m using it as another form of distraction or avoidance. It’s just so fun, and I’m literally learning another language. It’s hard to convince myself to stop and sit still, to feel in English.
