Today I’m grateful for feeling…

exposed about my control issues and codependency. I doubt anybody really saw it but they could have if they were looking. I was invited to do a thing separate from where Cubu was and I was so slimy getting out of it. I even had a dialogue planned if anyone pointed out that we’re attached at the hip: “we’re also on a vacation so we want to maximize our time together as well as our time with them” something like that. I don’t think I’ve ever admitted this truth to you: one of my largest terrors I exist under is that he will masturbate. The fear rules my life, severely triggering both my dad’s abuse, my trust issues, and what became my codependency. Anyway, I was scared that if I left him alone he’d do that. Not that he would in that circumstance, but I can’t describe how much I’m not using my rational brain. So this day was fraught with me coming up with excuses to not leave his side, as if he were a convict. It was so draining and sent me into spiral after spiral of shame. It took enormous effort to hide this and be a fun party-goer. 

intense shame just having admitted this, nauseous even. I know I need to put it out there, I have a gut feeling that I respect that tells me to keep being vulnerable, that this is how we get out from under the shame but FUCK. It will take all of my willpower to post this one. 

violated and ashamed that I didn’t stop it, slap it away, tell the guy off, anything. One of the extended family members of my foster family has given me creepy vibes for years and was at the engagement barbeque. He’s always flirting with me, looking at me weird, saying weird things, and lightly brushing my arm, my back, something. I’m always so relieved when he can’t make it to functions. He has a wife and kid too, he does this shit right under her nose. Anyway, I’ve been gaslighting myself all these years that I’m making it up, partially out of not trusting my judgment, partially out of not thinking I could be worth flirting with. At the party, he was willing to play catch with a football (a rare favorite of mine) so I half-reluctantly agreed. He was teaching me technique as we were throwing, mansplaining a thing I have been able to do well for decades now. Then he comes over and “shows” me how to move my arm by taking hold of my wrist and elbow and moving them around. Something that would be cute in a movie with willing participants but I HATED it. I froze, I couldn’t fucking move, I couldn’t fucking think, I was just helplessly stuck. He goes back to playing catch, I’m dissociated out of my mind just doing the motions back. When he’s done with this game, he comes and gives my arm/shoulder a hearty squeeze like he’s trying to feel me up and whispers into my ear “you’re so strong” then leaves, smiling suggestively as if all of that wasn’t completely over the line. I’m so disgusted with myself for not stopping him, for always victimizing myself by freezing. I’m working very hard on self-compassion but I’m triggered simply by recalling it. 

guilty that, of the time I spent with my foster family, only maybe a total of five minutes of that time was spent with my old roommate, who is how I got folded in with them in the first place. We just could not think of anything to say to each other and I think we were mutually avoiding being in the same area for days. I don’t know if I have to feel bad about this –  from previous convos, we both seem to be on the same page about acknowledging we’re in different places now. But it’s weird being so much a part of her family while also being so distant from her, my once best friend. I wonder if I’ll ever get closure with this or if it will keep coming up.

so fucking tired. A week and a half of five/six hours of sleep followed by 100% full days is catching up to me in a big way. I just can’t seem to make events stop at night or start in the morning at a reasonable time. I don’t know how to make time for myself, or assert my needs over the wishes of others/myself.

Feelin’ good…

• I am loving the time spent here with them. That feeling of being surrounded by family, accepted and loved for who I am, is so precious and rare to me that I do my best to never take it for granted. I’m so so lucky to have been taken in by this wonderfully wholesome and warm family. I can’t believe my luck. 
• I’ve spent hours the past couple days helping out with the barbeque set up, I feel very helpful and like I’ve been pulling my weight. Maybe part of it is feeling I have something to prove. But I also just love the feeling of being useful, of being a part of something that will be happy for everyone. I’m grateful to get to stay on the property with them so I can be of most use, that the bride-to-be (my ex-roommate’s sister) is willing to host us on her party nights. 
• despite the violated, furious feeling, I was really happy getting to play that much catch. I just pretended he wasn’t the person I was playing with and relished honing in my arm, how I hold the ball, aiming and seeing it go right where I wanted, and only missing two catches during 45 minutes of catch. I love love love feeling my body be capable and active. I’m grateful for my friend’s semi-pro dad that took the time to teach me when I was 10 so I can keep up whenever a football is brought out.
• my foster family goes balls out for parties and hires a guy to do a fireworks show at the end of the property and it fucking delivered. It was the best show I’ve seen, there were so many fireworks I’ve never seen before! The finale was fucking hardcore; teethchattering and felt like it altered your heartbeat with it’s booming. And it ended with a literal fireball that exploded like a mushroom cloud, 25ft in diameter and blasted us with a sudden wave of heat and light on a cool night even at our distance. I’m grateful to have been part of a group that could afford such a crazy expense, and to feel like I belonged there.
• I love seeing how helpful Cubu is. It’s just his natural inclination, to find needs and fill them without (generally) minding the time or effort. I’ve picked some of this attitude up from him and am grateful to have such a good teacher in the art of service.