The table has been completely overturned, and I did it to myself! A couple of weeks ago, [Relyt] and I sat down to discuss my various triggers and the stories behind them. We talked about some of my childhood, the first time someone attempted to rape me, some of my love life, and [he who shall not be named]. It was a flood of memories and locked doors suddenly all unlocked at once.
Please don’t make any sudden moves. You don’t know the half of the abuse. – twenty one pilots, “Heathens”
I was overwhelmed by all the emotions, and I just wanted to get it over with. I wanted to slam the doors shut and hide my feelings. So I did. I bottled it back up and redirected the conversation. Yet the seal had been broken. I can’t hide from the voices in my head, the endless memory reel. Every touch, gentle or forceful, every word, sweet or frightening, plays over and over, and to get to those long buried memories, I had to disturb much more recent ones. Memories of my soul mate threatening to smash my head through a windshield, threatening to expose me as a violent psychopath, cheating on me with every whore with a computer, posting nude photos of me on Craigslist as a ploy to get nudes from lesbians. Through all of that, I stayed strong, faithful, and submissive.
However the final straw came when he threatened to commit suicide. I called the police, convinced him to come home, talked him down, kept watch, and worried, and all he had to say was how horrible of a submissive I was because I wouldn’t follow his orders to give him back his knives. I broke, and I tried to run away. I ended up at Sanctuary. I spilled my story to everyone until I was shaking. It wasn’t every detail, barely brushed the surface, but it was enough. They helped me leave him, and in the following days, I have bared my soul and began a search for the real me. I am grappling with my own concepts of gender and submission. I am finally ready for the answer. I think.