Living in the dark

I had another one of those nights last night as I was walking the dog. I was flooded with feelings of extreme unrest, feelings that I simply am empty and there is nothing left. I feel that all that is left is severely damaged and that anything I touch, no matter how innocently, becomes damaged as well. It's like having leprosy. I have to admit to trying to numb these feelings throughout the week by not eating, or gorging on sweets or spending long periods of time on the computer looking for human connection. I make to do lists and plans and it seems like to get a list of 10 simple things done it will take 10 days. I got angry with myself as well because it still feels like I am waiting for something or someone to "save me" from this mess and I know it is all on me. It's a vicious cycle -- I know I need to do certain things each day to manage my life, then when I can't seem to force myself to do them, my life feels even more out of control.

After the walk with the dog, I was feeling very tired, numb and again, just completely empty. So I decided to go to bed early. My husband fell asleep on the couch and came to bed much later. I woke up before he came into the room, but just laid there silently. As he crawled into bed, he did what many husbands do, he spooned up next to me, his interests apparent in his body as he began to get mildly sexual. I grabbed his wrist firmly to stop him from touching me that way. He sensed there was a problem and that it was more serious than, "Not tonight, honey, I have a headache." He asked if I was OK ... and I simply said, "No." Of course, he pressed for what was wrong and I was at least able to tell him that I was scared to tell him, so I was struggling to find the words. He was very patient and said it was OK... just to take my time. I'm not sure I was able to relate to him fully, though he got the picture, that his coming into the room in the middle of the night and touching me with his erect penis and his hands had evoked a childhood terror that had not happened to me since I was a child. There was dread and disgust and my body ached from the way I was holding it so stiffly. I also felt such shame for bringing this past into the bedroom with my husband who had nothing at all to do with my abuse. I told him how sorry I was, and of course, he was understanding. But I have to think that no matter what he says, this has to be horribly frustrating for him. I am doing my best just to be thankful for his patience and support and relieve myself of one less burden. In the meantime, I just have to say it was horrible to feel those feelings of late-night violation again and I hope this EMDR shit is over soon.