Sexual Abuse Survivors Support Community

Round 'n' round the mulberry bush
The monkey chased the weasel
The monkey thought it was only a joke.
"Pop" goes the weasel.



So. June 4, this Monday, is a HUGE anniversary day for me. Luckily I will be starting a new job that day, but that only lasts until the afternoon. Then there's the rest of the day to deal with.

My therapist wants to know if I'm "stable" enough to start working on the really upsetting, disgusting SA stuff. I don't know what to tell her. Maybe? I guess that's the problem with moving as often as I do -- a long-term therapist would know the story of my abuse. And I wouldn't have to keep "coming out" with it again and again and again. So I'm faced with the question... do I spit it all out like I did before, with my previous therapist? Or do I simply keep alluding to it, like I have been for the past six months?

For those of you who are old-timers, you will remember my (very long) post detailing every single thing I could remember about the SA. I kept coming back and coming back with more to tell, there was more that had temporarily purged itself from my memory, until Paja outright told me to stop and take a break. I saved that post. It's tucked away in my documents folder under "therapy and case management."

I thought I would print it out. And then give it to my current therapist.

The SA stuff that went on was so horrific in my mind, I just don't want more than one person to know it. I feel as if since I already shared it with Barb, my previous therapist, she's the one person I chose to know everything. All of it. She knew about the molestation when I was 2, when I was 12, the emotional molestation by a family friend, and then as the crowning glory, the entire story of the "per se" SA.

I feel that by sharing it with my current therapist, I've ... spread it around and smeared it. You know, like when you're young, a secret is very important if you tell it to only one person. Somehow, the more you tell the secret, the less important it becomes.

That's what I'm afraid of. I don't want to tell everyone about it, because then I will 1.) become desensitized to it (and I don't want to do that) and 2.) I'll make it less important and have less of an impact. It was such an impactful lesson to me and I don't want to take away from it.

This seems silly.

But I can't help the way I feel. And I can't continue to sit across from my therapist, wasting her time twice a week, wordless.