Moving on...
Monday, May 30, 2011 at 10:12PM 
I've noticed that my pain is mostly gone. There is not much left. Nothing much to vent about. Nothing that bothers me to the point that unless I write it out, I feel like I won't ever be whole again. Another stage is about to close. Another stage in a long list. 5 years of psychotherapy, 2 years of couple therapy, unfinished novel that brought me to remember who abused me, 2 months of being suicidal, 1 year of intensive body healing, 1+ year of writing a non-fiction book and blogging, a decision to divorce, and now - this. Happiness. Being in love again. Feeling life to the fullest. Most fears gone. Emotionally mostly stable. Going forward day by day, enjoying things I thought I would never even dream about to enjoy. Enjoying doing nothing. Enjoying being alone. Enjoying my long and curly hair. Enjoying simply listening. And the biggest victory - enjoying sex. Not enjoying it "again", but enjoying it for the first time - because I was close to a "robot" my entire life until this year.
I know this topic is tabu. Especially when it deals with women. Even more so, when it deals with sexual abuse survivors. Still, more, when it deals with incest survivors. Not many want to talk about it, not many want to read about it. It is best left in the bedroom, or it's assumed that it doesn't exist. Yes, if you have been raped - you don't ever want to think about sex, let alone allow anyone to touch your body. You learn to disassociate from it and pretend your body is not yours, it's just a piece of wood laying there on the bed, with someone doing something to it - you are not even fully aware what, you simply watch from the distance, from the ceiling, or from the corner of the room. You participate even - but's it's all mechanic, learned behavior - it can even look passionate - except there is never any satisfaction that's derived from it. Only emptiness, and pain after. Always pain. There are drugs and alcohol and nicotine to silence the pain. But it's always there. Well, mine is gone. Poof. Non-existent. I'm free of it. That doesn't mean everything is suddenly perfect. I still have issues with shame, with seeing my body naked, with having others see my body naked, with fully relaxing, with my own image, sexuality. I'm working on it, but it doesn't compare to what it used to be - it's small left-overs. An occasional emotional clean-up. A burst of anger here and there, a frustration once a month, a sudden urge to hide - once a quarter.
I'm not sure exactly when this stage started, but I can tell - the signs are there. I blog less often. I see less visitors, less subscribers. My outcry is not urgent. I blog more about happy times now. I don't think of daily entries like I used to - to escape the immediate pain. I'm not sure what to do with my blog yet, but I'm thinking. My journey is not over. I only took the first step, and I see a hundred more steps ahead of me, all the way to the top of the mountain. There is my sister that denounced me. There is my step mother who still avoids talking about anything related to my abuse. There are my cousins, waiting for me to come visit them in Moscow. And, of course, there is my father. The one whom I have yet to face and to forgive. There is more. There is an unfinished novel - with the premise rooted in exposing the incest problem. There is an unfinished non-fiction book - with the intent to help survivors heal. There are still insecurities left in me, there are questions to ask, to re-evaluate social concepts that broke down for me - the concept of family, of marriage, of true love, of letting go - to live fully.
There is not much else to say. I'm even. Content. Listening to my favorite music. Writing. Re-connecting with old friends. Taking time to savor simple food. Looking out the window - because I want to look out the window. Being in love, letting myself be loved, allowing myself to fall even deeper. Living life, without it being marred by my past. To sum it up, moving on...
Photo by Royce Daniel.
Reader Comments (4)
Hi there,
stumbled across your blog and think it is beautiful!. Really good layout, nice blog.
And to hear that you are slowly healing is wonderful news. I am so glad for you and at the same time you give me hope - that my kids can heal.
I am a writer myself, but could never write about those things. I hate too much.
I don't think you need to forgive your abuser in order to heal fully. I don't believe in that. How can such a thing ever be forgiven - that seems to me forced. I hate those guys full heartedly. And they are not guys, they lack something human. Even animals protect their offspring. My kids told me so and they must know. They have seen far too much.
I hug you and kiss you and write to me by mail, if you would ever like to.
Bye,
Ellen
Dear Ellen,
thanks so much for your comment! Yes, I am on the fence - on and off - as to wether I let my hate take hold of me, or if I should fully forgive. And, I think, I should forgive - because when I hate, it consumes me, and not somebody else - at least that is my reasoning.
Ksenia
Really happy to hear about your progress. These things must be talked about and written about to help those who dont think there is any hope to get better ever. Keep writing.
Oh - thanks! Yes, I will keep writing - just taking a bit of a break to think how to change it.