Well, as you know, I DID
bury it for a long time. A very long time. just not in drugs and alcohol. If I hadn't been pretty good at burying things, I may have turned to that. You never know. I thank the Lord I didn't have to find out. I abused alcohol so much when I was in high school and college -- I am so thankful that I apparently do not have a predisposition for alcohol dependency. But if I had used it for years and years as my only way to cope with this, I think I would be in some big trouble. I can't imagine having to deal with an addiction along with all this.
Vulnerability-wise, I feel the same as I did after that conversation with Dr. M - about the medical stuff, when it became more real to me. I have felt that it was more real since then, but I think not as much. Now I’m back to that point. Also, the acceptance or attempt to accept that maybe I am not to blame has come before. I don’t know if you remember, but I kind of had a similar realization a few months ago. But I guess it didn’t “take.” Am I going to keep going around n a circle - revisiting the same realizations? How do I make it “stick” if I can, or at least move forward with it, without totally going back to where I was before? Do you understand what I am saying/asking?
As far as the embarrassment and shame — I mean, you and Linda and P (because I let her read what I had written out for Linda) know most of the not-so-great details. It WAS humiliating, and it is embarrassing to have anyone else know about it. I get so flushed and ashamed when I think about the fact that am sitting there with Linda, or talking to you, who know details of my having sex with these guys, know I laid there or whatever for a few hours mostly undressed, know that I swallowed urine and gave him oral sex, know abut the anal sex, know about what I did and said (even if you guys don’t blame me for doing/saying those things), and mostly - know about the bottle . That’s a lot of personal and embarrassing stuff, and it sort of goes into the “TMI” category, probably. Nobody wants people to see them in that light. It struck me a while ago - when Linda asked me to bring pictures of myself from college — I panicked later that she had wanted to see them so she could better visualize the whole thing. I was mortified. But it passed. I knew even at the time it was happening that I didn’t want anybody coming upon that scene and seeing that – even if it meant they might help.