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Sunday, September 19, 2010


During our last visit, Therapist told me chatting is a venue which causes him stress--I'm not the only one. He's very much an "in-person" person, and chatting feels flat and fraught with assumptions and misunderstandings. He finds himself littering his phrases with italics (to simulate vocal emphasis), over-explanations, and smiley faces. And after about ten minutes, he's finished. He can't handle the lack of immediate response and spontaneous smiles and laughter. And he doesn't think there's anything wrong with him...or me, in reference to this particular topic anyway.

So I'm going to choose not to worry about this phobia and move forward.

Now, if I could just learn to enjoy it when someone touches me.

I do have to say I believe I've made progress in this area. I've not hit "enjoy" yet, because it still causes me stress when someone touches my skin--which doesn't mean I don't want it, just that I have to remind myself that I'm safe and it's okay. And I'm all right if someone I care about has an arm around me, or hugs me--but it's not my favorite thing if those things come from someone unfamiliar, and I think that's normal enough.

I don't expect I'll ever love crowds or elevators or my bedroom in the house I grew up in.

I don't plan to be best friends with David-who-raped-me.

But I've had no flashbacks for nearly 8 weeks and my nightmares have been dreams, not memories. And last week I encountered a setback which makes me angry and I don't want to blog about it, but I think it will be resolved within the month. So--I'm hopeful. It's been a long time since I've had hope.

I've stopped stressing about friendships and other relationships. They will become what they will--and I seem to be the only one who worries, which is silly. If I'm left behind, well, there will never be a last time that happens until I die. It's part of life. I don't love it, but I accept it, finally. However, I do have to say that in accepting it, I think I become a whole lot less magic and certainly less beautiful--but mundane has its place, I guess.

Maybe, though, there will be some relationships which remain close and vibrant, a place where someone is always happy to see me, who likes to hear what I have to say, and who wishes to share with me the things that are important to him/her. I'm going to believe in that, even if it's not true, otherwise there will be no more magic left in me at all.

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