Trauma has created a bizarre relationship between reality and my internal world.
I'm familiar with reality. I know the facts— that I am not unusual, these things happen to a lot of people, it was not caused by anything I did,.etc.
But I don't truly feel any of that.
In my heart, what I feel is that I'm a stupid w**re. That I deserved everything that has happened to me. My bones feel full of dirt and coated in mud. I have done a lot of disgusting, dehumanizing things that I didn't want to do. I have sought out partners who treated me like dog shit, then desperately clung to them because I was afraid of what would happen if I let them go. I feel like my job is to let people use my body for anything they want because this stuff has been happening to me for so long.
I KNOW I'm feeling all of this because I'm hurting, not because it's true. But it's still hard.
I've been having flashbacks all day of being sexually abused as a child. And I really wasn't treated like a normal human. So I guess it makes sense that I don't feel like one either.
He treated me like an object. A tissue he could cum into and then throw away. No regard for my well being. He didn't even try to pretend that he loved me.
Even though he was sadistic sometimes, part of me still thinks "it wasn't that bad". As if I'm silly for being upset that at 3 an adult used his power to force me to lick his lukewarm, gelatinous semen off the the floor.
If anyone told me that had happened to them I would have empathy. I recognize that it's disturbing.
But when the child is me, suddenly I decide it's no big deal and I should get over it.
Edited by moop
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