A story I don't really want to tell...

The third appointment was the hardest one yet...and the whole reason that I am writing out my journey down this road... This is full of just broken thoughts and pieces, and I am sorry for the choppy writing. I cannot quite find words to say what I need to say...

I thought that I was going in for a purely physical fix to my problem.

It is called physical therapy right?

Well I forgot the therapy word was in there.

Most my appointments go with me doing exercises on my own, kegel mostly while working on other parts of my body, shoulders, back, etc. After I am done with those, Joanna stretches out the muscles in my hips and then works on other muscles in my back, shoulders, neck, pretty much where I am tight. The goal is to get my body to relax and release all the tension so that I can have sex without dying.

Let me tell you, I have a love hate relationship with the muscle portion of the appointment. She is very gentle to your muscles, trying to just get them to relax and release the tension and built up knots on their own. Which is the love part... the hate part is this...

I did not know you could hold so many emotions and broken pieces in your body. I thought emotions were purely in your head that that is where they stayed...

That is wrong. And if you want to argue that with me, talk to my back every time I stretch it how tears come running down my face. Or how after she corrected my neck and stretched my spine out I broke into a million pieces and could not hold it together for the whole next week.

I have been to therapy for the things that I have been crying over. I have cried nights and nights, months of tears for the things that I am crying about.

And still they keep coming...

Please read this next part of my story with a little bit of respect, knowing that I have never really fully shared this with most of the people reading this. It is not something that I enjoy talking about. It is not something that I want to share. I do not share it for your sympathy or for any other reason than the fact that it is important. Because I know that it has happened to more people than I can possibly know. I want people to know that they can talk about it too. I want people to feel safe and loved and know that it happens to others too.

When I turned 18, I found that the world did not give me the freedom that I felt I earned. I got good grades, I followed all the rules, I went above and beyond what was expected of me at every turn. I went to college early, I didn't go out and party on the weekends, I read my Bible almost daily, I went to church every single week, usually more than twice a week. I made it to 18 without kissing a boy, even though I was with someone for about 2 years. I did it right. I am not saying that to brag, I am saying that because I was a stuck up little prude who followed the rules and the worst thing she ever did was prank the boys hotel room while on a trip with the youth group. And even at that, I was the lookout because I couldn't actually do the pranking without freaking out.

But I just found that the rules placed on me were harder than before. More responsibility was given, yet zero freedom was given in return. I felt trapped.

I broke up with my boyfriend of 2ish years right before I turned 18. He was verbally, emotionally, and mentally abusive. I do not say this lightly. I could not speak to any boys. I could not text boys without first sending him the text, getting his revised version that he wanted me to say instead, and then waiting for a response from the boy, and starting it all over again. I could not get mad or hurt or upset about anything because it was always my fault. "I did that because you did this and this and this." If I made him mad, I got hours of silence in return for my trying to make things better. If I made him really mad, he would just threaten to leave me somewhere with no transportation. I was never "giving him what he needed." I loathe words of affirmation, because he shoved it in my face to literally make me tell him all the things that I loved about him while I was hurting and broken by his actions. I ended things because I could not take being made to feel invalid and invisible any longer.

We were young. We were immature. I am not saying that I did everything right, but I am saying I walked out a very very broken woman. But I also walked out with a, "I won't take sh*t from anyone, if you don't like that get out of my way" attitude.

Well I found myself liking this guy.... totally different from my first boyfriend. 5 years older than me, had a car he bought himself, had a job and did great at it, showed up to work on time, worked hard.

He would text me back. He took my honesty. He talked about the hard things with me. He understood the broken and just let me be.

I told him from day 1, there will be no kissing, no sex, nothing of that sort. NOTHING. AT. ALL.

I remember conversations with him telling me, I like you for more than that, a guy can want to spend time with you for more than sex, I am okay with that completely.

I slowly found out he was a man-whore. I mean that to the very extent of the word. His number of women at 23 probably exceeded double digits.

I also found out after everything that had happened.....that he also was trying to see how long it would take him to bang the virgin with most everyone we worked with.

One night we are just watching a movie, nothing fancy... And he kissed me. I was not happy. AT ALL. I had been saving my first kiss for my wedding day. But all he said was, "It was your job to make sure I didn't."

Well after that happened I was just like, well its done now so I guess I am kissing people.

He was so nice to me... He would take me on picnics and we would ride our bikes together a million times around a lake just to talk. He had me try new things, like rock climbing and riding a motorcycle. He never got mad at me, he never ignored me. He was sweet and romantic.

Then one night I find out that my grandma's cancer had come back again and this was probably it for her because she barely survived it last time. I was devastated. I go over to his house to cry and talk...

I find him semi-drunk and very happy to see me.

We talk and I cry a lot... and we end up laying in his bed kissing. And things went down hill from there. I do not want to talk about the specifics because it is still very real and hard for me to talk about. Nothing happened to me, but it almost did. The terror that I felt in that moment, the fear of not knowing how I was going to stop him from screwing me, how was I going to get away from that situation. I can still feel his hands in places that I do not want them in. I can still feel the weight of being pinned in a bed. All I could think of at this moment is, don't let your fear show so he won't fight you getting away anymore. Leave without letting him know how you are terrified or he will push further.

Here are the thoughts that I think that you are thinking right now and why I hate talking about this:

You kissed him and you knew he was drunk...what did you expect?
Nothing actually happened, so what is the big deal?
You liked him, so what was the problem?
He obviously didn't rape you so where is the problem in it?


Here is what I wrote in my journal over and over again a few nights ago.

I did not ask to be kissed, I did not want that. I did not initially want that at all. Sure I kissed him after that, I own up to that. But in the end, he did something I said a very firm no to.
I did not want the sexual advances. I wanted to be comforted and instead I got grabbed and smashed and violated.
I said no to sex. And he pushed. And touched where he was not invited, and tried to push where he was unwelcome.

These things happened to me. By someone I trusted, cared for, shared my emotions and heart with.

I hated myself. Literally hated myself. I would drive and scream at the top of my lungs and cry until I had no more tears. I couldn't talk about it. I couldn't tell my parents that this had happened because I didn't want to answer questions or get in trouble or being in that position. I hated that I let myself be in that position. I couldn't take what I knew people would tell me, nothing happened get over it you went there it isn't that big of a deal you weren't actually raped.

I talk to a counselor. I worked through things. I talked and talked and talked until I was blue in the face and my eyes fell out from crying.

Imagine for a moment not being able to get close to anyone again without the fear that they would rape you. Imagine not being able to be trust anyone because what if they tried too? I couldn't trust anyone because I trusted him when he said, "I don't want to have sex with you, I can want to be around you without wanting to hit that." I couldn't trust myself to believe those words again.

I still get flashbacks... When my husband, who is safe and loving and kind, touches me in the same way, I have an anxiety attack and cannot breathe or move. I am always looking over my shoulder, I am always on edge. I am overly self-aware so that I don't give anyone the wrong ideas ever again. I live(d) in fear. And silence. Because who would understand?

Here is the conclusion that I have recently come to:

If someone does something to you that you do not want, it is assault. It is trauma to you and to your body and mind. Unwanted advances are assault.

Keep reading that until you believe it. Keep saying it over and over again until in your heart of hearts you truly believe it.

I am still trying to take hold of it myself.

What happened to me, has had a profoundly negative physical effect on me and my body.

Joanna says that we hold things in our muscles, women hold them right in their hip muscles. Trauma especially. Our body is trying to protect itself. That is all it knows. Flight or fight. Don't let this happen.

Emotions are not simply in your heart, they can be held in your muscles as well.

This is already a long post so I will end with this and pick it up later.

If you have ever had anything unwanted happen to you, it is not your fault. You do not have to carry the blame for it. It is not your fault. And it is okay that it was traumatic to you. Accept that so that you can work through it better. Do not try to down play what happened to you. Let it effect you and get help for it.

I am here to listen or answer questions if you want to know more.

Just because someone has it worse, does not mean that you cannot be broken by what happened to you.

Cheerleader

You know that feeling when you finally see the light at the end of the tunnel only to realize that it is a freight train coming right for you?

Yeah, that was me a few days after seeing my physical therapist.

I get a letter from my insurance company in the mail.

"Your approval claim has been denied. You are not covered to see this doctor blah blah blah.... If you want to appeal this claim, your service member will have to contact us directly."

Heart attack. Then heart break... Then full blown break down.

They just sent me an approval, how is it denied?? What do you mean denied? Only my husband can talk to you?? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? He cannot call from a submarine to deal with an insurance matter! You are out of your mind!

Terror. What if I cannot get the help I need? What if I have to pay out of pocket?? I don't know how long this will take to heal and get better... What if...it takes a year? I can't afford that. Not in Hawaii on a sailor's salary. No way. Not when I lose my job at the end of January!

So my next appointment I go in to see her...

And I don't even want to bring it up. I really don't. I just want to pretend that I can still keep coming and that I am going to get better... That everything is perfect.

But everything I am nervous about/have an anxiety attack over, whenever I bring it up to her she puts me at such ease.

She immediately gets her part time secretary on the phone with Tricare (my insurance company), because they received two letters as well, one of approval and one of not... And she gets it sorted out before I even leave her office.

She fought for me. And made it very clear that she would continue to fight for me through everything.

So anyways, I am doing all these exercises, contract and release muscles, more than kegel exercises, finding a way to fully relax every muscle. And then at the end of our session she works on the muscles in my back...

Now I have to point out to you, that I have a knot on each side of my spine that runs down the length of my spine into my hips. And I have solid shoulders...not from muscle. From all the knots and tension. My back is solid. And tense.

But have your ever tried so hard to do something that when you don't succeed you just want to start crying? It is discouraging... Very very discouraging...

And I said that, with tears streaming down my face as she asked me to do something and I could not. Physically could not do it. I just started crying... "It is so discouraging... I can't do it."

"That is why I am here! To cheer you on when you are discouraged. Because this is a process and it does not have to be over night.

"I am your cheerleader."

That to me meant the world. Because there was finally someone in my corner who had my back. Who was okay with, I cannot do this, I am struggling and crying because I want this so bad but I just cannot get there right now.

I need that. As someone who demands perfection from myself at every point. I need that. I need to know that it is not a failure, nor a set back, it is just something that will come later on.

Relief. Complete relief.

Maybe I can fix this and repair the holes in my marriage after all.

The crying did not stop there...

You know when something is set up by God? When you walk into your physical therapist appointment and they tell you that you need to go somewhere else for help because they don't specialize in "that." They wouldn't even say the word sex... But they know a person who does and they will get the referral sent over to your doctor to send in again for this new place.

And you walk into this new place.... And are immediately put to ease by your therapist. She asked me questions and wanted the honest answers, no matter how crude or awkward it was. She wanted the truth... She was willing to talk about the hard things that you have been wanting to talk about with someone who could help you for so long... She wanted to know my pain and struggle... She encouraged crying and feeling everything that came with finding healing.

But you know how I really know that God had His hand in this?

She tells me that she was once committed to someone very dear to her that was on a submarine. Those were her exact words. I thought I would start crying right then because immediately she knew my struggles and my pain. She understood what it meant when I said our only communication is through "emails." She just got it when I said that I didn't want to put anything personal cause I never know who is reading. She instantly knew.

And that does not happen. Let me tell you....it is hard for people to get this life, impossible for you to understand fully unless you have walked in these shoes what it is like.

It is a constant sore spot in my life when it comes to talking to people about it... It is hard for me to explain without feeling that I am complaining, to convey truly how difficult every day of my life is... This is not just the regular military where they go on deployments then they are home, maybe gone for a month of training before they deploy again... No. Not this. This is they are home maybe a total of 5 months each year. Total, meaning that is broken up into a weekend here, a week here, maybe a month if you get lucky (more like the boat breaks and they are forced to stay).

And when you are having painful sex...that schedule is hell. There is no time for anything. There is no time to try and work through things and feelings and thoughts. There is no time to sit down and take a good few weeks to discuss your heart and where you want to be.

So when you are already feeling the fear and terror that your marriage might crumble....take into consideration that you cannot fix it. You cannot work on it continually. You have a day here and a week here and hope that the bandaid that you applied will last until you can replace it.

And for someone who is going to be working through such a tough process and deep healing with you... For her to just get it and not have to go into all that and explain all of that....

Heaven. Send.

Then she goes on to discuss why most people have this problem. It is all about the muscles, not a faulty body. How women carry our stress in certain places and it completely takes a toll on us. She asked if I was in pain at that moment. I said, yeah my back is always a bit off, her response, I can tell you are carrying a lot on you because of the way you are sitting.

Then she walks me through a treatment plan...saying what she would like to work on and work through with me. Then she tells me, if all that doesn't work....I have something else to try. It isn't covered by your insurance but it is only $50 up front and that is it. I have other options, and I will help you, I can help you. This is a problem that we can fix, not something that is permanently wrong with you. I have written a whole book on the matter, I can help, I promise you.

I started crying....

Sitting there in her front room, crying. Just met the woman and I am crying in her office. What? Who am I? I don't do that very often... I don't cry with strangers!

But here I am, crying in her office.

Now mind you, there is still skepticism in the back of my mind, I have had my hopes up before and that didn't go well. At all. But I am slowly see more and more light...

And the crying did not stop there....