Therapy Day

I feel:: full
What song is on a loop in my head right now:: Tori Amos~God

So, yesterday was therapy day. I'm always a bit anxious before I go because I expect that something will come up during the session that will cause me emotional pain. I'm willing to take that chance, hence the therapy, but that doesn't mean that I will like it. Who likes to be in pain? I don't. Because of the nasty dream I had about being in that dark place, I was sort of twitchy when I woke up and remained that way for most of the day. I felt like I was in a pretty good mood, but also that I was forcing myself to be that way. I finally realized it when I called Tanya and my voice sounded like it was about to shatter. It was the happy voice, but sad things were coming out of my mouth. I felt like I wasn't maintaining very well. Like I wasn't very stable emotionally. I felt like the twitchiness/shakiness was a symptom of something wanting to come out. What it is, I have no idea.

Well, during therapy, Anne asked me how I was feeling and I told her about the twitchiness and about the dream I had. She said she thought that it represented some form of abuse. I kind of already figured that out on my own, but to hear her say it gave me confirmation. Then she had me go through the details of all four rapes again. I still don't know why she had me do that. I told her about them on my first visit. I guess I just sort of glazed over them that time.

The first one was in 1984. I had just turned 14 that May. My dad, my cousin Shannon, and me were on vacation in Ft. Walton Beach, Florida. My dad always liked to go at the end of the summer after everyone had left, so I'm guessing it was sometime in late July or early August. (That used to piss me off to no end that he would wait to go until everyone had already left. As a teenager, I didn't want to wander around the hotel and beach alone.) Anyway, it got to be a habit of mine and Shannon's that we would get up midmorning, eat breakfast, put on our bathing suits and walk the beach. We were teenagers, so we were into seeing who was at the beach (looking for boys mostly) and being seen (by boys). So, we would start on the beach in front of our hotel and walk almost the entire length of the beach on one side and then turn around and walk back to the hotel. I don't know how many times we would do this during a day, but we both wound up with really good tans. Well, one day, as we were walking, some guys approached us and asked us if we wanted to play frisbee with them. One of them was named Dexter and the other was named Shannon. (As I think about it now, I think that it's weird that my cousin, who is a girl, was named Shannon and then we met a guy named Shannon. I have never met another guy named Shannon.) So, we hung out with them for awhile playing frisbee. They offered each of us a beer. We were too young to drink, but we took them anyway. I hated beer, but I drank it I guess because I just wanted them to like me. I think I drank about half of it. Well, I am notorious still for having to pee all the time. When I go on road trips with Sally, she kids me about having to stop to pee every 30 minutes. So, after a few hours on the beach, I had to go really bad, but our hotel was all the way down on the other side of the beach. I didn't think I could make it that far without peeing in my bathing suit, so I asked Dexter if I could use the bathroom in his hotel room. The hotel he and Shannon(the guy) were staying in was called The Carousel and it was just down the wooden walkway and across the pavillion from where we were standing. He said it would be ok, so I took Shannon(my cousin) with me. She went to the bathroom first, then I went. When I came out, she wasn't there. Dexter was. I felt a little nervous about being in the hotel room with him and I felt sort of naked with only my bathing suit on, so I made to go out the door. (I also wondered were my cousin had gotten to.) He stopped me and started kissing me. I didn't know what to do so I kissed back. After a few minutes, I tried to pull away from him and get to the door, but he held me there and kept kissing me. I didn't know why he was doing this, so I tried again to get away from him. He pushed me down on the bed and started to kiss me harder. I tried to push him off of me, but I couldn't. He was so much bigger than me. Somehow, despite my struggling, he got my bathing suit off of me. By then, I was completely freaked out. He kept trying to kiss me and I kept turning my face away from him. He was trying to get me to spread my legs, but I wouldn't. I remember him saying,"Open your legs." Then I said through tears,"You can't do this to me. I'm a virgin." What he said next I will always remember. He said,"I know." Then, he just pushed himself into me. The pain was something that I can't even describe. I screamed and screamed, but there was no one to help me. He kept telling me to be quiet, but I kept screaming. I tried to get away, but he had my wrists in one of his hands and my body pinned with his body weight. God, that hurt so much. I still remember the way he smelled. My face was pressed into his shoulder (I guess he did that because it muffled my screams.) and all I could do was breathe in his scent. Sometimes, I still smell that and it brings me right back to that moment. Isn't the sense of smell supposed to be the strongest sense tied to memory? I believe it. He went forever and ever. I thought he would never stop. He finally got through and told me to get my shit and get out. He wouldn't even look at me. I sat up on the bed and was shocked to see a large amount of blood on the sheets. I knew that women bleed when their hymens are broken, but I didn't think it would be that much. I had blood all over my legs. I took a clean part of the sheet and wiped off as much blood from my legs as I could and put my bathing suit back on. I couldn't walk very well, but I managed to walk back to the hotel. My dad and Shannon were there. My dad asked me where I had been and I said something about wanting to walk on the beach by myself. I told him that I was going to go to bed because all that time on the beach had given me a bad sunburn and I was feeling sick from it. I guess he believed me because he didn't ask any more questions. I went into the back room and took a very hot shower. I just stood in the shower and cried as puddles of blood formed on the shower floor. I got into bed and stayed there for the rest of the vacation. I think my dad thought I had sun sickness or something.

I can't write any more right now. I'm starting to twitch again.