Sex should be fun and intimate, between two consenting adults who both want the same thing. It should never be scary or cause unwanted pain. It should be a beautiful thing.
Despite all that I’ve experienced in my life, I still believe there can be a magical experience when it comes to sex. I want to believe that. I don’t think that I would have been able to have my kids if I didn’t believe that.
My husband has stuck by me despite the person I became whilst addicted to the pills. He didn’t love the person I had become, but he believed that I was in there somewhere and was willing to hold on for me to come back.
For longer than I can remember we became just housemates. There was nothing intimate about our relationship. I found this disconnect from one another really hard to deal with. Most of my life has been about some form of sexual intimacy. It’s been a way to be close to someone. I get scared when it’s not there any more. I feel unwanted, unloved and not needed. I feel worthless and empty.
Things have improved between my husband and I. Being intimate isn’t on the top of the list of things but it’s there from time to time and he looks at me sometimes like he used to, before I got sick. So I don’t feel as shit about that as I used to.
That was until Sunday night. We had sex, it was great. But, I disappeared mid way. Suddenly I wasn’t in the present, I was having multitudes of flashbacks. I tried to bring myself back to the present, but the flashbacks were pretty persistent. I felt so guilty and disgusted with myself afterwards. I love my husband and wanted to feel close to him. Instead I just went to a place that’s not safe or fun. It’s not right. It’s dirty and horrible.
I tried to talk about this in my triad at uni and also with my counsellor. The tears wouldn’t leave me be and the ashamed feeling just grew and grew.
I couldn’t get out all the words with my counsellor. I couldn’t say what we had been doing. She told me I needed to tell him and that if it happens I needed to say stop or no….but I can’t do that. I don’t want to lose my husband again. I don’t want to fuck up everything I’ve worked so hard to get back. I don’t know what to do.
Being celibate is never going to happen. I don’t want that to happen. I just want the past, the memories and flashbacks not to have such a horrible hold over me.
Even now, I still feel that shame tearing through me. I feel this huge sense of guilt and I hate myself. I feel dirty and disgusting. I try and tell myself it’s ok, that it’s not true, I’m not those things.
Being stoned had a big advantage. I didn’t feel these things as intensely as I feel them now. I could push some thoughts and memories from my mind. I could numb myself and it didn’t matter. But now it’s all so vivid. I am transported back in time to when I was 6 or 8, or 10 or 15, 17, 24 and all the years in between.
I feel like I’m going totally mad. I feel like a freak. I want this all to just go away. I want my life back. I don’t know how I got through all those years, I know I wasn’t happy. I know I didn’t do all the right things to manage. But this is just feeling more like a living nightmare and it’s never going to end.