Disclosing Abuse What I thought vs what is starting to come out
raffa_will_fight
Registrant
“trigger hunter”
This is what is started to call myself. Scanning through post, comment and stories to look for physical reactions of my body, and now understanding that it’s not the sick excitement I believed it was, but a sign of my body intercepting something it knows. A way to tell me that there is something I should look into and elaborate.
This is what makes me ask gross questions, give detailed and graphic explanations, share intimate thoughts I have nowhere to share. Because they feel weird even to myself.
And I got what I was looking for. Amazing people understanding me, sharing their parts with me, not being grossed out when I ask details of very very intimate stuff. Quick reminder: I will NEVER judge anything or anyone. No one should feel right to do that.
And I got the triggers I was looking for. Who started a chain reaction of flashbacks and memories I had the sensation of maybe being there surfacing. Gradually. And sometimes hiding again when it gets too much.
But I was not at all ready to have everything change so drastically. I came here with confidence sharing my three abuses: uncle, teenagers, rape. The first vivid, at least the first time, the second and third foggy to one point and then blank.
The first is probably the longest one, the memory of my sticky hand suggests a wet orgasm.
The rape at 18, except the feeling of the blade in my throat, is almost “accepted” because a friend told me “it’s your fault if you drink that much”.
The second I know was one time, probably a little rough. “They’re boys”, you know? Then the latest flashback and memory of the smell of dirt, and teenager’s lack of hygiene, and ass, and probably the awareness of using it to humiliate me.
And after reading a post of consequences and symptoms of abuse, some experiences and connections made to phobias felt like a kick in the stomach. It triggers moments of that day, of the things those two did. I get somatic flashbacks (thanks for teaching me about this term and giving it a name). I have them through the day: a feeling on the tongue, a taste in my mouth, a smell in my nose (and costumers seeing my reaction and helping me to find “that thing” that I think I smell”-makes me feel a little crazy).
The images are gross. Not very clear but disturbingly strong. I want to give myself the benefit of doubt, but I guess it’s more like hoping I just try to fill in the blanks. And BANG, another stranger taste and smell pull me back from hoping too much.
I will need to get this out as soon as it becomes clear. And i apologise in advance.
What is most confusing is that the abuse I thought was not that important because it happened just once, possibly turns out to be that money that changes my whole perception of sexuality, the human body, my view as sexual partner, my likes and dislikes and could’ve the reason behind my mind seeing sexual things constantly around. All the time. Even if the possibility should feel like a goal I have reached, the sensations elaborating and discovering the causes of “me” are… much.
This is what is started to call myself. Scanning through post, comment and stories to look for physical reactions of my body, and now understanding that it’s not the sick excitement I believed it was, but a sign of my body intercepting something it knows. A way to tell me that there is something I should look into and elaborate.
This is what makes me ask gross questions, give detailed and graphic explanations, share intimate thoughts I have nowhere to share. Because they feel weird even to myself.
And I got what I was looking for. Amazing people understanding me, sharing their parts with me, not being grossed out when I ask details of very very intimate stuff. Quick reminder: I will NEVER judge anything or anyone. No one should feel right to do that.
And I got the triggers I was looking for. Who started a chain reaction of flashbacks and memories I had the sensation of maybe being there surfacing. Gradually. And sometimes hiding again when it gets too much.
But I was not at all ready to have everything change so drastically. I came here with confidence sharing my three abuses: uncle, teenagers, rape. The first vivid, at least the first time, the second and third foggy to one point and then blank.
The first is probably the longest one, the memory of my sticky hand suggests a wet orgasm.
The rape at 18, except the feeling of the blade in my throat, is almost “accepted” because a friend told me “it’s your fault if you drink that much”.
The second I know was one time, probably a little rough. “They’re boys”, you know? Then the latest flashback and memory of the smell of dirt, and teenager’s lack of hygiene, and ass, and probably the awareness of using it to humiliate me.
And after reading a post of consequences and symptoms of abuse, some experiences and connections made to phobias felt like a kick in the stomach. It triggers moments of that day, of the things those two did. I get somatic flashbacks (thanks for teaching me about this term and giving it a name). I have them through the day: a feeling on the tongue, a taste in my mouth, a smell in my nose (and costumers seeing my reaction and helping me to find “that thing” that I think I smell”-makes me feel a little crazy).
The images are gross. Not very clear but disturbingly strong. I want to give myself the benefit of doubt, but I guess it’s more like hoping I just try to fill in the blanks. And BANG, another stranger taste and smell pull me back from hoping too much.
I will need to get this out as soon as it becomes clear. And i apologise in advance.
What is most confusing is that the abuse I thought was not that important because it happened just once, possibly turns out to be that money that changes my whole perception of sexuality, the human body, my view as sexual partner, my likes and dislikes and could’ve the reason behind my mind seeing sexual things constantly around. All the time. Even if the possibility should feel like a goal I have reached, the sensations elaborating and discovering the causes of “me” are… much.

