Triggers and Memories

I'm having a very domestic day, working through a few persistent memories that keep popping into my head lately. I'm almost done, the house fairly sparkles, but it's hot and I'm melting, so I'm taking a break.

As an abuse survivor, triggers are a part of my life, I've accepted that and have learned, for the most part, to deal with them. Ones that I know will cause me problems, I avoid if I can. Often though, I can't avoid them. Sometimes, it is more an accumulation of bits of information, gleaned from the news and from reading blogs.

These bits of information at some point reach critical level. It feels like a punch in the gut, twisting ever tighter, it can sometimes make me physically nauseous. That's about when the memories flood in. They overwhelm me, and often send me into a spiral of pain and doubt, darkness and self loathing.

One particularly persistent memory lately takes me back to the time period when I experienced very bad flashbacks. They would send me into a total animalistic panic. This occurred during the first few years we were together.  They always occurred during intimate moments and all I really remember is freaking out and fighting to get away. This memory has been poking at me for months, and I have been resistant to it. I don't want to remember those things.

I've been feeling stronger though lately, and I know I need to face this demon or I will never be able to put it to rest. I've started to allow this memory and to my surprise, it is not painful. It is not the memories that triggered those panic attacks that are coming back to me.

The memories coming back to me are of Musicman. Musicman restraining me with his body, holding my face in his hands. His voice, so low, steady and strong, whispering to me. His eyes, so close I can see his soul, I instinctually know it is a safe place to be.

I'm starting to remember more, I remember his hands gently stroking my face, wiping away the tears. The terror fades under his ministrations. Slowly, so he doesn't scare me, letting his hands roam a little further, brushing my hair back from my face as he lightly kisses the tip of my nose, and the lightest of brushes across my lips.  He maintains eye contact as much as possible, more then I am confortable with, but he insists I look at him. He insists that I see HIM. HE is the only one there with me, and HE will always be there with me. I'm safe.

He continues to move slowly, caressing a breast, then stroking down my belly, gently so he doesn't spook me, still maintaining eye contact and whispering words I don't remember. He slowly slides off my body, but he doesn't go far, I'm clinging to him like a drowning person to a life preserver. His mouth is right next to my ear, whispering softly, so softly. He never stops talking to me, keeping my focus on HIM.

His hand reaches between my legs to stroke and I start to panic, but he's whispering those words in my ear. I don't know what the words he kept whispering to me were. I just know they worked, they made me feel whatever it was I needed to feel to be okay. It's a feeling I can recall but can not express. I calm again, he touches me and this time I feel pleasure. I feel the kind of pleasure only he can give me.

He works me into an orgasmic frenzy with just a hand and his words, guiding me, away from the pain and the terror. Guiding me into a a whirlwind of physical and emotional release and surrender no other person ever has.

I see his face again, suddenly, looming above me, it's no longer his hand I feel between my legs. He enters me in one smooth motion and I know I'm home. He starts to move slowly, excruciatingly slowly, and I want more, I need more. I want to touch heaven and I know he can take me there. I am no longer a broken, passive, ball of pain. I move beneath him, answer him thrust for thrust, digging my feet into his back, urging him to go faster. Please, give me more, I need more.

He sets the pace, only picking up speed when he is ready. He holds my face again between his hands, demanding that I look at him as he spills his seed so deep. There is no doubt I belong to him. I see that fact in his eyes.



I just found this posted on facebook and it seemed appropriate for this post.