There is a memory I've been thinking about allot lately. It was back when I was pregnant with our first daughter. We had just made love and were lying in bed cuddling. I was almost 6 months pregnant, and the baby had begun really kicking a lot and doing back flips in my belly.
We just lay there, not saying anything, not moving; just holding and being held. My husband lay behind, his body curled close to mine. His hand rested on my stomach, feeling our baby kicking at him. "I'm so lucky to be with you." His voice broke the silence. I rolled over to face him and saw that there was a tear on his face. This man had been through hell and back with all the abuse he had faced during his childhood. He never cried; he wasn't a crier. He put his hand on my face and whispered softly to me, "I never knew what it was like to be loved until I met you. I can't wait to have a family with you. You make me so happy." I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. I just kissed him then buried my face against his chest.
That moment was one of the happiest times in my life. It hurts so much now when I stop and realize just how much we have lost. Once the baby was born things began to change. I wasn't allowed to have sex for a month after having the baby. I had developed Pre-Eclampsia during the pregnancy and had ended up having to have an emergency cesarean. It took me quite a while to heal after the surgery, and that put a large strain on our marriage as I couldn't do the things that he was used to me doing. I was useless, and even though he realized I had almost died, he ended up resenting me over it. It was a horrible situation. He knew that it wasn't my choice to neglect him, he knew that I had almost died and that I needed him to help me through the difficult time I was having. It didn't matter what he knew to be true, all the bad memories and feelings of abandonment came flooding back to him. During that time he lost most of his trust in me, he became scared that he wasn't good enough for me no matter what I told him. It seemed like everything negative form his past was coming back and pushing its way into our marriage. I'm not sure if it had to do with the fact that I couldn't be as expressive of my love for him in a sexual way during that period, or if it was the fact that he had been really scared when the doctor told us if I didn't get into surgery right away that I would go into a seizure and likely die, or if it was the fact that the dynamic of our lives had just changed and he now had this huge responsibility placed upon him.
I am pretty confident that I know all his dark secrets from his past, and even though I am still here, he doesn't believe that I would ever accept him. It doesn't matter what I say or do, I can't seem to get it across to him that I accepted him fully when I married him. Since that time we have gotten past some of the negatives that came up, but he has also fell into a depressive state that seems like it has no end.
The happy memories that I have are the only reminders of what things could be like. During weeks when we never see each other and we are cross, thinking about what our love used to be is the only thing that helps me to get through my day without pulling my hair out.
The addition of more sex toys in our life together has helped us become a little closer. At least now when everything thing else is falling apart around us, there is still an incredible feeling of closeness when we have sex. Most of the time he forgets to even kiss me hello or goodbye, so it is nice to have a time when I know he is only thinking about me and being with me. The closeness from our sex life is slowly seeping into the other areas of our marriage. I don't think our marriage could survive if we didn't have sex. The toys help add an element of newness, of excitement. Plus some nights, my husband is just too tired to put much effort into it. When that happens I can just stimulate myself with a small vibrator while he is inside of me. It allows both of us to finish, but requires very little energy from him.
The quiet moment after sex still remains my favorite part of the day, even though it almost always includes him snoring in my ear. I no longer get the deep and intimate discussions out of him that I used to, and anything I say is lost because he is always asleep as soon as he pulls his cock out. At least I still have some good memories to hold onto.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Sunday, June 15, 2008
My past.
The last post was really from yesterday, I just didn't publish it until today. I've been kind of lazy lately. Last night we went shopping and this morning we have kind of just been chilling out. My husband is gone of course, working as always. Last time I only talked about my husband, so this time it'll be about me.
Most of my problems steam from one place, my childhood. Some of my earliest memories include hiding outside crying because no one would even notice I was gone. I was told several times that I was "unplanned" that I had only been an accident and my parents really hadn't wanted me. My mother spent all her time doing housework and helping my older brother with his home work. In fact at the age of 4 when I wanted to learn to read, she was too busy to help me, so I learned on my own. My father was no where to be found when I was a child. All his time was spent in the garage or taking naps. My mother was 42 when she had me, and the next youngest child was 8 years older than me. We lived in a rural area and my mother home schooled, so I had zero friends growing up.
When I was 15 I begged my parents to let me go to public school. To my surprise they did let me go. I made some friends easily and started dating; thus began my other major problem. When I turned 17 I got into a serious relationship with a 19 year old from my summer job. He had just graduated from high school in a nearby town (I went to school at a very small rural school, he was from the largest town in that area) and was getting ready to go to collage. This relationship was really great for about 6 months. He asked me to marry him, and being so in love I accepted.
I have no idea why I was in love with this man. I had my first sexual experience with him, and it was what I now consider to be rape. I was his first girlfriend, and I guess he was eager to have sex, because he pressured me until I finally caved. Our first encounter was oral sex, and by that I mean he forced his cock into my mouth and verbally abused me until I performed on him. I was expected to do this for him every time we met from then on. After telling me what a horrid girlfriend I was for not letting him fuck me, he finally started telling me that I would do it if I loved him. So there I was, scared and not ready for sex, in the back seat the car, as he had his way with me. It was never a concern if I enjoyed it or not, but that’s OK because I only wanted it to be over with. After he had finished, I was only concerned with if I had been "good enough" for him. When I asked him if he was pleased or not, his response was "it's not what I expected, you're really loose." This is something that he later used against me to force me into anal sex. At one point in the relationship he insisted on giving me oral sex. I already knew that I wasn't good enough for him, and I resisted him because I knew what he would say about me. I was right. He told me that I smelled bad, that I tasted bad, that I was disgusting; and I believed him.
After we got engaged, I moved in with him and we were together another 6 months until I finally left him. I didn't understand at the time why I stayed with him. I didn't understand how all the emotional abuse was worth it. After being away from him and going through counseling, I discovered the reason why. I never had a father growing up, my dad was checked out. I was seeking approval from a man; I wanted the love that I never got from my family. Even though he was forcing himself on me several times a week, I still wanted to be with him. I even began to crave it. It hurt and I hated it, but there he was, wanting me. No one had ever wanted me before. It got to the point that I stopped being a young woman and just became his property. We had sex on average 4 times a day and I gave him oral sex at least twice each day as well. This was of course while we were living together. I was so bruised and so sore, that I prayed for my period to come a few days sooner than normal. When I was bleeding I was too disgusting for him to touch me, which allowed me some time to heal although the bruising never completely went away.
It was a horrid relationship that ended up costing both him and I our schooling. Everything was fine the first couple months of our relationship. We were working together and dating during our free time. We started having sex during the last couple weeks before he started college. I was in shock during that period. I was convinced that we were in love, and I believed everything he said. I really did think that I had to have sex with him; I believed that I was lucky he would even want to have sex with me considering what a disappointment I had been to him. After he left for college and I started school again, we saw each other on the weekends. I was working every day after school and on the weekends, until he told me I needed to have the weekends free for when he came back home. So I quit my job and tried to get back some of my grades that had been slipping. I was spending all of my free days with him, and trying to rest up from that during the school week. I became very sick, both physically and mentally, and ended up dropping out of school. I had been going to the doctor every week and getting all sorts of tests done. They couldn't find any reason why my hair had started falling out, or why I was so weak. I started going to a counselor weekly also. I didn't really talk about my relationship; I only talked about my problems with cutting myself and my want of death.
The counseling sessions helped. I kind of got some of my life back and my boyfriend had started spending more time and money on me. Instead of us only having sex, we were starting to talk more, he was buying little gifts for me that were pink and said things like "I love you" on them. He wasn't going to classes anymore, he spent all of his time partying and cheating on me (only one way to get Chlamydia) He dropped out of college and got an apartment "so we could be together." I moved in with him shortly after he proposed to me. During that time he had been being very sweet to me; guess he was afraid I would kill myself and then he'd have to find someone else to rape.
During the 6 months I lived with him things got worse. We began having sex 5 or more times each day and he started becoming violent towards me. He kicked in his apartment door right in front of me as I stood there crying. He threatened to kill me on more than one occasion. After a while of the abuse I went back to see the counselor. After telling her what had been going on and how he had treated me the entire time I had known him, she only had one thing to say to me "If you don't leave him now, he will kill you." So I left him, but I kept talking to him over the phone. I wanted answers, but he wouldn't give them to me. He refused to even admit that he had given me Chlamydia. I don't know why I expected any different. I finally stopped talking to him when he called me a bitch and threatened me on my 18th birthday. I never talked to him again.
That relationship left so many scars in my heart. I had this deep rooted belief that I was disgusting no matter how many times I went to counseling. I didn't stay single for very long though. I met my husband through an Internet dating site within the month. We talked online and over the phone for about two months before we met in person. We got married exactly one year from the day we met each other face to face. During my marriage I have been able to get past a lot of the problems created during my prior relationship. My husband never asked me to give him oral sex and if I told him I didn't feel like having sex he would just hold me instead. I finally gave him oral sex because I thought he deserved it, and I wanted to know what it was like when it was my choice, my gift. It really helped to have him there during those first few months after I had left my previous fiancé. I had someone to talk to, someone to laugh with. We were a couple hundred miles away so the pressure of sex wasn't even an issue. There was something there that I hadn't felt before. He had a certain gentleness about him that made me feel safe, even over the phone.
We have since lost most of the sweetness that was between us. I think we are on the right track to getting it back though.
Most of my problems steam from one place, my childhood. Some of my earliest memories include hiding outside crying because no one would even notice I was gone. I was told several times that I was "unplanned" that I had only been an accident and my parents really hadn't wanted me. My mother spent all her time doing housework and helping my older brother with his home work. In fact at the age of 4 when I wanted to learn to read, she was too busy to help me, so I learned on my own. My father was no where to be found when I was a child. All his time was spent in the garage or taking naps. My mother was 42 when she had me, and the next youngest child was 8 years older than me. We lived in a rural area and my mother home schooled, so I had zero friends growing up.
When I was 15 I begged my parents to let me go to public school. To my surprise they did let me go. I made some friends easily and started dating; thus began my other major problem. When I turned 17 I got into a serious relationship with a 19 year old from my summer job. He had just graduated from high school in a nearby town (I went to school at a very small rural school, he was from the largest town in that area) and was getting ready to go to collage. This relationship was really great for about 6 months. He asked me to marry him, and being so in love I accepted.
I have no idea why I was in love with this man. I had my first sexual experience with him, and it was what I now consider to be rape. I was his first girlfriend, and I guess he was eager to have sex, because he pressured me until I finally caved. Our first encounter was oral sex, and by that I mean he forced his cock into my mouth and verbally abused me until I performed on him. I was expected to do this for him every time we met from then on. After telling me what a horrid girlfriend I was for not letting him fuck me, he finally started telling me that I would do it if I loved him. So there I was, scared and not ready for sex, in the back seat the car, as he had his way with me. It was never a concern if I enjoyed it or not, but that’s OK because I only wanted it to be over with. After he had finished, I was only concerned with if I had been "good enough" for him. When I asked him if he was pleased or not, his response was "it's not what I expected, you're really loose." This is something that he later used against me to force me into anal sex. At one point in the relationship he insisted on giving me oral sex. I already knew that I wasn't good enough for him, and I resisted him because I knew what he would say about me. I was right. He told me that I smelled bad, that I tasted bad, that I was disgusting; and I believed him.
After we got engaged, I moved in with him and we were together another 6 months until I finally left him. I didn't understand at the time why I stayed with him. I didn't understand how all the emotional abuse was worth it. After being away from him and going through counseling, I discovered the reason why. I never had a father growing up, my dad was checked out. I was seeking approval from a man; I wanted the love that I never got from my family. Even though he was forcing himself on me several times a week, I still wanted to be with him. I even began to crave it. It hurt and I hated it, but there he was, wanting me. No one had ever wanted me before. It got to the point that I stopped being a young woman and just became his property. We had sex on average 4 times a day and I gave him oral sex at least twice each day as well. This was of course while we were living together. I was so bruised and so sore, that I prayed for my period to come a few days sooner than normal. When I was bleeding I was too disgusting for him to touch me, which allowed me some time to heal although the bruising never completely went away.
It was a horrid relationship that ended up costing both him and I our schooling. Everything was fine the first couple months of our relationship. We were working together and dating during our free time. We started having sex during the last couple weeks before he started college. I was in shock during that period. I was convinced that we were in love, and I believed everything he said. I really did think that I had to have sex with him; I believed that I was lucky he would even want to have sex with me considering what a disappointment I had been to him. After he left for college and I started school again, we saw each other on the weekends. I was working every day after school and on the weekends, until he told me I needed to have the weekends free for when he came back home. So I quit my job and tried to get back some of my grades that had been slipping. I was spending all of my free days with him, and trying to rest up from that during the school week. I became very sick, both physically and mentally, and ended up dropping out of school. I had been going to the doctor every week and getting all sorts of tests done. They couldn't find any reason why my hair had started falling out, or why I was so weak. I started going to a counselor weekly also. I didn't really talk about my relationship; I only talked about my problems with cutting myself and my want of death.
The counseling sessions helped. I kind of got some of my life back and my boyfriend had started spending more time and money on me. Instead of us only having sex, we were starting to talk more, he was buying little gifts for me that were pink and said things like "I love you" on them. He wasn't going to classes anymore, he spent all of his time partying and cheating on me (only one way to get Chlamydia) He dropped out of college and got an apartment "so we could be together." I moved in with him shortly after he proposed to me. During that time he had been being very sweet to me; guess he was afraid I would kill myself and then he'd have to find someone else to rape.
During the 6 months I lived with him things got worse. We began having sex 5 or more times each day and he started becoming violent towards me. He kicked in his apartment door right in front of me as I stood there crying. He threatened to kill me on more than one occasion. After a while of the abuse I went back to see the counselor. After telling her what had been going on and how he had treated me the entire time I had known him, she only had one thing to say to me "If you don't leave him now, he will kill you." So I left him, but I kept talking to him over the phone. I wanted answers, but he wouldn't give them to me. He refused to even admit that he had given me Chlamydia. I don't know why I expected any different. I finally stopped talking to him when he called me a bitch and threatened me on my 18th birthday. I never talked to him again.
That relationship left so many scars in my heart. I had this deep rooted belief that I was disgusting no matter how many times I went to counseling. I didn't stay single for very long though. I met my husband through an Internet dating site within the month. We talked online and over the phone for about two months before we met in person. We got married exactly one year from the day we met each other face to face. During my marriage I have been able to get past a lot of the problems created during my prior relationship. My husband never asked me to give him oral sex and if I told him I didn't feel like having sex he would just hold me instead. I finally gave him oral sex because I thought he deserved it, and I wanted to know what it was like when it was my choice, my gift. It really helped to have him there during those first few months after I had left my previous fiancé. I had someone to talk to, someone to laugh with. We were a couple hundred miles away so the pressure of sex wasn't even an issue. There was something there that I hadn't felt before. He had a certain gentleness about him that made me feel safe, even over the phone.
We have since lost most of the sweetness that was between us. I think we are on the right track to getting it back though.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
First Post
Hello! Yes this is my first post, and will be just a rambling.
First of all let me say I have a lot on my mind. It is going to take years to get all this crap out; but then again, that's how long it took to put it there in the first place. Out of all my problems, my marriage is the most prevalent.
My husband has a lot of problems, so do I, but his are much deeper rooted and more severe. He has this weird tendency to freak out if things are going good. He had a really bad childhood filled with abuse of every kind, and he is still deeply scarred from it. Every time we start getting really close and this deep intimacy starts to form he does a 180 and turns verbally and emotionally abusive. I know this is a survival thing that he does because of his horrid past, but I think he should be trying to work past these fears of his so that he can have a better future. I try to be supportive and loving, but it seems like the kinder I am towards him the more frightened he becomes. I have never done anything to betray his trust, in fact I have been allot more forgiving towards him than I maybe should have. He is so scared that I will betray him, or leave him, or I just won't accept him anymore. I am getting really tired of constantly pouring my heart out to him and encouraging him when it is never enough.
I have finally given up on trying to encourage him and have instead gone to sex as a means to boost his confidence. This is sort of difficult for me as I struggle with my own self-confidence issues and the fact that I am over weight (two children didn't help this). There was a lot of sexual abuse as a child and he was raped by another child when he was 11. From that he has major problems with feeling inadequate and undesirable. There is so much shame that is still there. He denies it of course, because he is into "stuffing" his problems instead of dealing with them. After sex though, his attitude seems to change. He just seems happier and way more relaxed, which of course allows us to have a better day together.
There will be a day when he gets past some of these things, it's just hard to survive until then. I will no-doubt write more about this at some later date. I didn't even touch on the abuse he suffered from his mother and what that has done to his trust in women.
Yeah, I'm done for now.
First of all let me say I have a lot on my mind. It is going to take years to get all this crap out; but then again, that's how long it took to put it there in the first place. Out of all my problems, my marriage is the most prevalent.
My husband has a lot of problems, so do I, but his are much deeper rooted and more severe. He has this weird tendency to freak out if things are going good. He had a really bad childhood filled with abuse of every kind, and he is still deeply scarred from it. Every time we start getting really close and this deep intimacy starts to form he does a 180 and turns verbally and emotionally abusive. I know this is a survival thing that he does because of his horrid past, but I think he should be trying to work past these fears of his so that he can have a better future. I try to be supportive and loving, but it seems like the kinder I am towards him the more frightened he becomes. I have never done anything to betray his trust, in fact I have been allot more forgiving towards him than I maybe should have. He is so scared that I will betray him, or leave him, or I just won't accept him anymore. I am getting really tired of constantly pouring my heart out to him and encouraging him when it is never enough.
I have finally given up on trying to encourage him and have instead gone to sex as a means to boost his confidence. This is sort of difficult for me as I struggle with my own self-confidence issues and the fact that I am over weight (two children didn't help this). There was a lot of sexual abuse as a child and he was raped by another child when he was 11. From that he has major problems with feeling inadequate and undesirable. There is so much shame that is still there. He denies it of course, because he is into "stuffing" his problems instead of dealing with them. After sex though, his attitude seems to change. He just seems happier and way more relaxed, which of course allows us to have a better day together.
There will be a day when he gets past some of these things, it's just hard to survive until then. I will no-doubt write more about this at some later date. I didn't even touch on the abuse he suffered from his mother and what that has done to his trust in women.
Yeah, I'm done for now.
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