Wednesday: Today I’m grateful for feeling…

Immediately overwhelmed and confused after saying no to Cubu when he wanted sex. My nervous system went bonkers. I could feel my heartbeat everywhere; my fingers, my toes, my ears. Curious thing that happened though: instead of just riding that and not noticing the state I was in, I got curious. I realized this is an oddly strong reaction, something trauma related for this level of activity. I turned inward and asked myself what set me off: it wasn’t his disappointed look, it was that I failed to meet an expectation. I went into the mental treehouse where my inner children live and they were going wild. All the ones 8 and below were running around, some screaming, some crying, some frozen. When I asked them what was going on, what we were feeling, the resounding answer was “scared.” They did not tell me the cause. It’s confusing because it’s only part of an answer. What exactly am I this scared of? 

Horrified and enraged when I realized this morning that the men my dad sold my body to likely had other little girls in their lives – nieces, daughters. From what I understand, I’m likely not their only victim. And I don’t think I’m my dad’s only victim, although I haven’t yet contacted the girls who may have been the first. I feel devastated thinking how there are more victims than perpetrators out there. It’s very hard not to just hate men in general, to maintain my empathy, since most perpetrators are men. 

Confused and at a loss as to what to do with my intricate feelings about my father. The more that it sinks in that I’m probably not the only little girl he abused, the more resentful some child in me is but it’s directed towards those other girls? One dialogue is “how could he do this to me, his DAUGHTER”. I didn’t realize this made me feel special, was the only way I felt loved by him, until I thought about how he spread this “love” to other girls who “weren’t even related to him”. This familial status of mine that once appalled me, once worked against him, there’s some voice in me that has treasured it and feels itself robbed or wronged. This trauma ball is so fucking intricate, jesus.

Confused and full of dread as I start to think of sex toys. The idea keeps popping into my head recently, which is completely foreign to me. I know I can’t handle vibrators, I’ve never been able to look at them without wanting to run away. Today I stopped to think about what that meant and felt an inward insistence that things had been stuck up my body. I don’t know if they were vibrators or not but I think objects have been used. Now I’m trying to carve out a more sex-healthy lifestyle for myself and I’m frustrated that I can’t look at these options designed for my pleasure. 

Peaceful and accomplished after helping Will, the library construction volunteer, create a base out of plywood today. I always feel so cared for and valued when we work together. He’s getting older and I’m learning fast enough to be filling in the things he is getting too slow/achy for. I love being taught by him. I think I just love having mentors. I also feel proud because today he told me for the second time that there are jobs for me in construction if I just applied to them. This was after he watched me execute something “very well for a first timer”. It’s flattering and also enforcing that I’m good at doing beginner’s carpentry, which I adore. I’m so grateful to have wonderful people like him in my life.

Delighted after dancing in my room. I didn’t have time to work out but I had 20 minutes at home so I flipped up the floor bed and danced my heart out. It felt incredible. I’m excited for our furniture to be back in they’re places so I have more room. We haven’t finished repainting since the re-piping and it’s a tight squeeze right now. I’m thrilled to have found this fun, music-filled, engaging activity and the space to act it out.

Happy and gleeful if not very nauseous after having a La Croix tasting with Cubu and two of his coworkers. We taste tested and ranked all 22 flavors of regular-sized La Croix. I don’t like sparkling water – the smells say “fresh fruit” and the taste is battery acid. But I liked the idea and the company so I went. It was a blast, I love the communal feeling of participating in something rare and absurd.

Nervous but excited after formally asking a coworker of Cubu’s to be my friend. He can read people like I can but he uses it in a very different way. Every time we’re together we’re like gushing teenage girls, geeking out over every micro-body language someone gives off and how it fits into the overall social tapestry and their history. He said he wants to be friends too and once I figure out where my DiSC Assessment went (a psychological personality test) we will meet for lunch to geek out over those.