Normal

My husband asked yesterday if I ever thought I would be normal in regards to certain things.  I told him that I didn't know what normal looks like but that my goal is to be healthy.  He looked at me weird but he does that a lot when I actually get out of my head and talk.

Those certain things that he's referring to are my incredible sexual hang ups.  I came home from therapy the other night with a list of things that he cannot do and the reasons why.  He was told all of those things by my counselor before we got married so that we were hopefully on the same page.

Problem was, when he did any one of those things that bothered me, I never said anything to him. 

My counselor originally wrote the list as I talked about what things bothered me.  But I decided to I hand write it again so that he knew that it was coming from me.  I gave it to him and initially he looked surprised and confused.  Then he said that he needed some time and I was positive that he was really mad at me. 

Turns out that he was mad at himself for hurting me.  He thought those rules were my therapist's rules and not my own.  I confirmed that thinking when I never said anything when he did something that hurt me.

I won't get into the details of the list because it was awful to talk about and write.  But I think that what upset me the most was the fact that I had no good answers for why I let him do things that hurt, bother or upset me.  All I knew was that I was the same person with him that I have been in the past with all the other men and I felt so ashamed for that.

My EX-husband, among other things, had a rape fantasy.  So guess what he did every few months?  I still have a hard time walking into my own dark house even though it's not the same one he and I lived in together.  And forget about hiding around a corner to scare me.  That's a cardinal sin in our home and everyone knows it.

My father... my best bet was to look like I enjoyed it.  If I showed pain it only made it worse.  Same for his friends.  But then there were the times where I couldn't muster anything close to a look of pleasure because kids aren't made to do those kinds of things.  Those were the worst times.

My husband isn't anything close to being like the other men.  If I told them not to do something because it hurt me, they did that thing even more.  My husband isn't like that and I don't understand why I would think that of of him.  But I do. 

I also think that says more about my own condition than his state or that of our marriage.

Now I'm not going to lie.  I'm scared to death now that he knows the things that can hurt me and bother me the most.  I trust him but then I don't because really, I don't fully trust anyone.  I feel extremely vulnerable.  I don't know the things that could bring him to a mental stand-still or break him down yet he knows some of my deepest and exacting issues.

It's hard enough growing up the way I did.  But then I grow up and once again find myself in a disadvantaged position in my own marriage with the man that I love.  I hate that.

I guess the good thing is that he hasn't gone anywhere in 6 years.  And he's still here even after me bringing home a list of do's and don'ts.   So even though I don't know what normal is; I guess this might be our own normal.  He still doesn't understand my differentiation between normal and healthy and that's probably because healthy is normal to him.  I guess that makes sense for someone who isn't as fucked up as I am.

I feel childish in this thinking but it's what I want.  I don't care about normal but I want to be healthy.  Normal can mean so many different things but healthy seems like a much more concise goal.  I just read my last few sentences and I realized that I just said something that I want.  I don't ever do that so I'm hoping that is a step in the right direction of healthy.

Husband

I have a good husband.  I was very fortunate this time around.  Husband # 1 was a first class nightmare who also found himself enmeshed with my family from a young age. 

We were doomed before we even thought about dating.

My second time around I knew better what I was looking for and I found someone reasonably healthy.  No, my husband isn't perfect but I am sure that everyone here also knows that I am far from perfect as well.  I wish I could say that I have been an open book with him but I cannot.  He knows I have a past.  He knows I had a ruthless childhood.  He also knows I have D.I.D and he has done enough reading to know what kind of abuse causes such a disorder.  Prolonged and severe; he knows these things about me.  He "knows" my alters.  Some of them like him, some of them don't have much to do with him.  Others spend a great deal of energy trying to make him leave us. 

Except he doesn't leave.  Thank God.

When we were engaged we met with my therapist together and he got the short version of D.I.D, what living with me would look like, things to avoid, and things to do.  I was able to tell him that I was abused and that there are things in my past that I do not want to talk about with him.  All this he was fine with.  And he has remained fine; frustrated at times but still fine.

I used to journal on paper a lot.  And then he found one of my journals, read it, and all hell broke loose.  So I stopped writing until I began writing on this blog.  This has been a lifesaver for me to write here.  I have shared excerpts of my writings here with him but I have not freely shared the link.  It would not be the end of the world if he found this blog but I like it better knowing that I can write without censoring and having to answer questions about the day's blog post over dinner.  Talk about indigestion...

But now I am at a crossroads; my family is gone and with them died a lot of secrets.  My husband believes that I do not have a relationship with my father or mother and that my sister passed away... many years ago.  Knowing what he knows about D.I.D he has always been fine with us having no contact with them.  Now however, why am I still holding on to many of these secrets?

Anger is one reason.  My husband will be angry over much of what was done to me.  That anger will make me vastly uncomfortable.  And further, I have yet to justify causing someone to be angry for no profitable reason.  So why make him angry?

I fear what he will think of me; this is another reason.  What if he believes that I am a whore?  What if he realizes how fucked up I really am?  It boils down to my fear that he will believe what I already believe about myself.  And if we both believe the worst about me does that then mean that we will be doomed too?

That is my greatest fear.

Nine

So I got my ass kicked in therapy the other night... I got a not so subtle push from my therapist to get moving in the right direction again. I guess I have been at some sort of a plateau as of late but sometimes I don't see that as all bad either. However, the longer I stay in one place emotionally, the more I realize that where I am is not where I want to remain.

It's almost sad; I am in a better place than I have ever been in my life. I have a great husband, an amazing daughter, a home, a job, food, and even a great dog. But the other night when my therapist asked if I was happy, as much as I wanted to answer "yes", I knew that my answer was "no". How much of a spoiled brat do I sound like right now? Probably a pretty big one.

Where my feelings diverge is where happy and grateful form a fork in the road. I truly am grateful for what I have. I am safe for the first time in my life. Seriously. But in my mental peripheral vision, I have blind spots and shadows. My depth perception and judgement are clouded and compromised. I have a lingering sadness in my heart.

I'm great at faking. I fake my way through my work day. I'm a VP at one of the largest corporations in the world and I do my job very well. I keep my husband laughing when we are together. I'm also a pretty good mom. But I'm a faker and I crumble when no one is looking. I could probably go through life continuing to fake my feelings but I don't think that would yield the relationships that I desire. Good but not great.

I have homework this week. Spend nine minutes telling my husband how I feel. Literally saying the words "I feel ______". He gets to listen and say nothing and then after those nine minutes, it's his turn. He is good at this assignment; I am not. That's why it is my homework and not his.

Feelings are messy. The first night we did this we got into a fight. We rarely fight. I also rarely share my feelings. I hope that is merely a coincidence and nothing more. I get nervous talking about how I feel. I'm afraid I will say something that will hurt; I'm afraid I will get hurt.

Another side effect of this assignment is the horrific nightmares and flashbacks I have been having. More intense than usual and the images stick with me long after the nightmare or flashback has finished. I guess that untapped feelings = untapped memories. I've tried all this before and after a few days I would quit. The feelings and memories were just too strong. This time however, I'm stronger.

The larger point in this exercise was for me to learn to express my feelings. But what I didn't expect was the growth in my relationship with my husband. Today was day four of the assignment and I can honestly say that I feel closer to him and more loved by him than ever before. I didn't expect this result but it makes me want to keep going.

Day five is tomorrow and I am almost looking forward to those nine minutes.

Slow

It is a rare event that my husband and I have a day to ourselves. We typically have 1 or 3 kids with us, he works many weekends and generally we are just going in many different directions that manifest in the ways of birthday parties, karate, soccer, school projects, yard work, house work, grocery shopping, etc. Yesterday was not one of those days.

My daughter spent the day with a family friend and their kids. His kids were with their mother. He didn't have to work and that left the two of us on our own. I saw my daughter off and I actually went back to bed for an hour. I have not been sleeping well so that extra hour did me a lot of good. After that, I got up and walked into a clean kitchen and hot coffee thanks to hubby. We sat on the couch drinking coffee and decided that we should go see a movie... a grown-up movie. We saw Duplicity and loved it.

We spent the rest of the day watching sports; something we both love to do but never have the time or the competitive edge to win out over SpongeBob or Hannah Montana. We then ate ice cream for dinner; something we will never admit to our kids... . We finished the day by taking a walk with our dog and talking about nothing in particular.

Shortly after that my daughter came home covered in face paint, exhausted, and begging to go to bed. It was a good day for her too.

It was a slow day and a good day. We have too few of these and I will look forward to the rare occasion, months down the road where another one will occur by chance. For nearly three years, our lives have been turned upside down by a bitter woman who wishes us, and especially our marriage, harm. Many of our weekends are spent being divided into "his" and hers" teams and it is a tiresome existence.

How comforting it is to know that when the dust settles and we are on our own that we still like, love, and enjoy each other's company. He has his baggage and God knows, I have my own truckload and a storage unit of baggage, but somehow we work and I am thankful for what we have.