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Discussing My Traumatic Relationships

Why is it so hard to do?


photo created by author using Midjourney

Originally posted here on Medium

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Writing about my traumatic relationships is healing for me, in part because it allows me to release it from my memories, in part because I know I’m helping other people in similar situations some way or another. But I do have one major issue with it. I don’t want to give my abusers power. I’ve already said most of what I want to say here. But there’s a part of me that still wants to say more. But I also mostly don’t want to. I don’t want to because I fear it gives them power. That they are still influencing my life. I remember the cold wash of dread when I heard his voice a year ago after accidentally sending out an SOS to my emergency contacts. I didn’t even realize that he was still in them, let alone that he would call “concerned.” I don’t remember if I wrote about it, but even when I broke up with him, he had the audacity to steal my power away from me by saying he’d “already been breaking up with me slowly.” I still feel nauseous thinking about those words. Unfortunately, he pops up in my relationship everywhere. His memory haunts my dreams. His voice and the things he did to my dog make me cringe and feel downright rotten about myself. How could I let him do those things? So does my experience with sexual assault. The other day, my partner mentioned showering together and I froze. All the excitement and passion I’d been feeling a millisecond before drained out of my body. I broke down and cried. And cried. My partner held me and told me it was okay. God, how I’ve needed someone like him in my life. Someone to provide me the forgiveness I can’t give myself yet. Someone who loves on me just because, not for any transaction or ego-boost or as a form of manipulation. Just because.

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My past experiences weigh heavily on me. My therapist and I have talked about how I have to recognize that these things existed in order for me to break away from them. That they have power over me in order to put it in the past tense. I’m not ready yet. I want to heal, I want to move on. I want to forget. But that’s impossible. I hate writing about these situations because they do have power over me. And I feel like sharing them gives them morepower. Not that my abusers would ever read what I wrote, but if they did… If they did, they would know they still have power over me. I can’t allow that.



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