YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
Threats and Promises can be either good or bad. There are occasionally good threats and bad promises. It all depends on the point of view of the recipient. As for me, I won't make a promise I can't or won't keep. Still, I often do things I say I'll do without the words "I promise." I'm in need of an emotional dump, and right now (9:45PM PDT on Sunday, April 10, 2016) I'm not sure how this will all end, my jumbled thoughts dropped out of my head and onto the computer, nor am I sure how long it will take for me to put it all down, because I mostly type with one or two fingers.
I don't need to put this down, but my defensive side forces me to: Yes, I was sexually abused as a young girl, yes, I've been assaulted numerous times, including in an abusive marriage that lasted nearly 13 years, and I've been raped more than once, with the last one being so traumatic that I have "shut down" several times since then. (July 2004) Still, this has nothing to do with my sexual preferences/practices or my involvement in BDSM. I don't see myself as a victim, I see myself as a survivor. Still, the memories will sometimes make me cry. I have PTSD. I have "triggers" that affect me. Some I'm aware of, others that take me by surprise. This doesn't make me weak, nor do I want or need anyone's sympathy. Acceptance is fine. I'm not fragile. Time has taught me that I can make it through the pain. I'm picky about the Ones I go to when I need to be held and comforted. They know who They are.
'Deadbeat' (the father of my children, and the man I stayed married to for 13 years) never threatened or promised. Instead, it would often come swiftly and unexpectedly. It took me nearly a year after I left him to feel safe enough to tie my shoes unless I locked myself alone in a room. I would rather trip over loose shoelaces than dare to put my head down long enough to retie them. It wasn't the fault of my children that I was often beaten for their actions. I always thought 'better me than them' but sometimes, they would be beaten as well. Two months before I left for good, he gave me a black eye just before I got into the car to visit my family. I had told them many times over the years that I was in danger, but I think the black eye finally got their attention. I can't begin to count how many times I was told "Try and work things out, give it time." Sometimes, it's just not enough. Sometimes, nothing is good enough. Sometimes, you need to realize your own value and walk away.
I don't recall every instance, but my sexual desire was nonexistent, so Deadbeat would often take me in my sleep, and then wake me up and hand me a towel to clean up. I was a member of a very conservative church, and I was told by the Pastor that it was my "duty" to give him (Deadbeat) sex whenever he wanted or he might find someone else. Looking back, I think it's funny. After I left, I found out Deadbeat cheated on me numerous times, and then accused me of cheating and beat me.
In spite of all that, I remained trusting of others, and I discovered that most people were good. I became fearless, and even though I often had night terrors that would make me wake up screaming, I did okay. Once, when I was living on a boat moored off of Catalina Island with my boyfriend at the time, my screams caused the Harbor Patrol to pound on the doors because someone thought I was in danger. When they saw that I was physically okay, and was told that I had night terrors, they noted it, and we were no longer disturbed by them.
My boys would sometimes have friends over, and my screams would wake them. I used to apologize for frightening them in the morning, but it eventually got to the point that all their friends knew that my screams were 'normal' for me. Now that they're a distant (bad) memory, I ask myself how anyone could consider it normal. I will sometimes wake up scared by something in my dreams, but nothing like it used to be.
My ability to easily trust others was taken away when I was raped in July 2004. Nearly twelve years later, and I still take my time in inviting others into my life. I might have hundreds of Facebook friends, but it's a very few people that I call "friend." There are people who have known me for years and they only know my nickname. Since my home is my Sanctuary, I rarely have people over anyway. "It's not you, it's me" applies in this case.
Looking at the clock, and other than two five minute breaks, I've been at this for 90 minutes. I'm still not finished, but where I am now isn't exactly where I thought I was going. I still need to get to the place I was heading, and I will get there in time.
I've covered Threats and Promises from others and I barely touched on mine, which is where I really wanted to go. Thank you for being brave and patient enough to get to this point. I wish I could promise you it will be worth your time, but I can't. That decision is yours.
I love many people, some know it, some suspect it, and others have no idea just how deeply I love them. There are only two people who I am "In Love" with, and they are Stitch and Shilo. I've Loved Stitch longer, but that does not mean my Love for Shilo is less, nor does it mean my Love for Stitch has diminished. Love is not divisible, it is something that can only be multiplied.
Love is perfect, but it doesn't mean that my relationships are perfect and painless. I could only wish for that. In this case, the pain and imperfections in my relationships remind me that I am alive. Like the waves of an EKG, it has it's ups and downs. "Happily ever after" is a fairy tale. My life is not a fairy tale.
I'll tell you that life is often ugly and scary, and sometimes you think you've reached the top of a hill only to discover that there's HUGE mountains ahead. It's not easy. It's a fact. This isn't a complaint. Nobody likes a complainer, but nearly everyone likes likes the truth, even if it's ugly.
Stitch isn't as healthy and strong as he used to be. He's often tired and surly, Choosing to argue instead of trying to understand. He often pushes thruogh at the expense of our relationship. I've told him I'd rather have cuddle time than a clean yard, but because Shilo has had his own health issues, Stitch feels it's his 'duty' to take care of things.
Stressors will often cause me to have digestive issues, and, combined with my medications, my stomach is frequently tied up in knots. My SAD is at its worst in April, so the uphill battle is often lost by me. It's easier to give in and quit than lose and be unsuccessful in whatever I want to do.
Then there's Shilo. Where Stitch is able to use his verbal skills and express himself, Shilo is often silent. Fortunately, he keeps an online journal for me. He hasn't always been completely truthful in them, especially when it comes to things that he's afraid I'll be disappointed in him about, (Smoking comes to mind) but it's still a useful tool. Shilo will often guard things and hide them instead of being vulnerable with me. I've come to accept that it's just how he is.I'm not sure if he realizes the pain I occasionally get from that part of him, but, just like him. I often guard that part of me.
I'm not going to hold back. It's past midnight now, and a new day (Monday) and I need to get it out. This is something I've held close, but it's been to the detriment of my relationship with Shilo. We've both been through so much with each other. and I admit, I've gotten 'soft' when it comes to him. The 'soft' has nothing to do with my Love for him, it's mostly had to do with me wanting to avoid long periods of silence (our way of "arguing") and because I've felt like crap. The past few weeks Shilo has been very confrontational and critical (unlike him) and instead of rising up against him (which is something I'll often do with Stitch) I just back down quietly and stew in my own juices. This won't continue much longer. Shilo knows I won't allow myself to react in anger, and I often choose to take a "cooling off" period before dealing with things. This "backing down" isn't "cooling off" it's me retreating in my emotional cave.
If you'll go back up to paragraph 5 (6?) I made mention of my my former Pastor telling me about my duties and warning me of possible consequences that might occur if I shirked them. I only mentioned the sexual there, but there were other warnings as well. What was unknown then (but known now) is that I have bouts of severe depression. Depression doesn't always manifest as sadness. It has many facets. So here I am again, only in the other seat. No threats, promises, warnings, or guarantees. Only an observation: The reaction is retreating and depression, but one day, there will be action. I have no idea what the action will be. I know what I desire. Love is perfect, and I keep my Promises. I guess the last two sentences about covers it.
This took 3 hours from start to finish. Maybe this is my action, or maybe it will inspire positive action in others. Bedtime!
Sleep well, My Love.
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