Rambling about the Negatives.

I've been avoiding writing about this for a number of reasons, but I realize that if I don't get it out, I won't really get it out of my mind.

About 2 weeks ago, my husband and I watched the movie "Good Luck Chuck" at home. It's not a great movie. The basic premise is that the guy is a luck charm - if he sleeps with a woman, she will automatically marry the next guy she dates. At a certain point in the movie, they show him "providing his service" to many many women. It's fairly graphic (R rated, I think).

So anyway, my husband got turned on by the movie, and I was just not in the mood. If he'd asked or something, I probably would have been okay, but instead, he basically pushed me onto the bed and did it to me, even though I protested some of the time.

I completely blocked it out until 4-5 hours later when I was taking a shower, and then suddenly, it hit me, and I started crying uncontrollably. I didn't want him near me, I told him not to touch me. I felt completely violated. Over the next few nights, I had a series of very lucid dreams which I couldn't clearly distinguish from reality. They weren't terribly traumatic - just so clear that I couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't anymore. I asked my husband about a phone call he'd made and he swore he'd never made it, for example. It was something that he'd have absolutely no reason to lie about - I asked him who he'd called about getting something in the house fixed, because I remembered having heard him on the phone with someone - as I played back the conversation, I realized that parts of it were illogical, so I'm going to have to go with the idea that it was a dream.

I also called my mother and asked her if they expected me to look online for silverware for them, and my mother basically said "that must be your other mother."

Then there were a few dreams where I "woke up" and realized it must be a dream, but that happened in a dream as well. I also had a night when I couldn't fall asleep at all. I was just anxious and uneasy for hours. Finally, I had something from the alcohol family and I was able to sleep. It was the first time I needed chemical help to sleep in a very long time. Since then, I haven't had to drink myself to sleep again, so I guess whatever it was is mainly worked through.

For some reason, I've had a really powerful reminder of something that happened to me in my early 20's.

The background: I was living with my parents, but my dad had pretty much told me to get out, just not in so many words, and I was still in school and didn't have a job, so I had no way to get out - actually, that's not true, I could have moved in with my brother & his wife (they offered, and they actually had space for me - I could have had my own mini-apartment in their basement), but the commute to school would have been near impossible, and they said I couldn't bring Doggie, who was pretty much my only friend at the time.

Anyway, I used to mess around in chat rooms a lot, and for whatever the reason, I had a lot of BDSM fantasies (in which I was a sub), so I started trolling for someone who would keep me on the side and pay for a place for me to stay. This guy Aristo picked me up. We arranged to meet someplace, and he took me back to his apartment. I won't go into all the details of what he did to me, b/c this isn't a porn site. At one point, though, he had me on all fours on the floor, and he sat on my back and pulled my head up by the hair so I was looking at a full-length mirror, and he said "look at you, you're a cow. See how you're my cow?" I was sobbing, but I wouldn't resist. I needed a place to live too badly. In the end, I refused to see him again, and I stayed at home another few hellish months (basically, the ruling was that as long as my dad didn't see me, I could stay).

Eventually, I got a job and my mom gave me enough money for me to put a security deposit on an apartment, which I shared with a guy roommate. He was actually a really nice guy - never made a move on me and got along with Doggie really well. I lived there for 2 years.

After I moved out, my dad started talking to me again, and I think he felt really guilty. He bought the place I live in now and he let me live here rent-free until I got married. Now my husband and I pay about half the going rate for a place like this, so I mean, my dad's really tried to make amends for what he did. He just doesn't realize how far things went. I think he'd cry if he knew.