Kids are in a bad mood. It’s going to be a rough day. So I did something out of character. I sent my therapist an email. Usually I am fanatical about “I pay you for x minutes that is all I am taking” but she has been asking and asking for me to check in by email. We don’t see one another as often as she would like and she’s having a hard time with dealing with the flow of information in x minutes. She is asking for more time.

I think that part of it is, I pay absolutely at the top of her scale and that is part of the reason I don’t go very often. I could pay for therapy or I can accelerate my house payment. That’s how I look at money. I look forward to the some day of not having a mortgage. That is going to feel like an awful lot of freedom to me.

So my therapist has been asking me at every session to email her. She’s pestering. Ha. I sent one today.

I’ve been having a lot of intrusive thoughts about my brother trying to rape me and how the fighting him off experience happened. I’m thinking very graphically about what it meant for me to fight him off of me. What did I do? How did I move my body? I didn’t say anything.

I can feel the twisting and contorting in my muscles. I can feel them pull towards re-enacting it over and over.

It started partially when I read the Alanna books. She speaks so graphically about what it means to train your body. You practice that motion over and over until you can do it without thinking about it.

I have been having a lot of intrusive thoughts about my brother. Noah, that’s part of why I have been pulling back from sex. I can feel my muscles reflexively curl into a protective, fighting position. I’m not trying to do it on purpose. It’s just happening. Then I think about why I learned it. Then they feel locked into fighting position. I think that is what is going on with all the weird knots in my muscles lately. I feel physically freaked out and like I’m ready for a fight.

This is not a good mind set heading into a party. I want to punch someone in the face. I need to do something with this. I feel scared. Why am I so scared?

I’m scared in a way that makes me want to fight. That makes me want to defend myself. I don’t feel likable. I feel ready to have to physically deal with people disliking me again. I have been having some friendship conflict. I don’t worry about being attacked. But I feel uncertain of myself. Of my future. I feel uncertain that I will be a good enough person to do the things I want to do. I feel so intensely drawn to doing specific things. I don’t know if I will let me do them though. I worry so about being judged for doing the things I want to do. I worry about being wrong and doing it wrong.

I do stay up nights worrying about this home school thing. Not because I think my children will be behind academically. My children will probably always be above grade level in terms of the state standards. They are mildly inclined to acceleration and they live with me 24/7 and I just talk about things. They are bright and they like to listen to me. They know a lot of stuff already. It’s not that I worry about that.

I worry about the future. I worry about being someone who is worth knowing. I worry that I will not actually be able to help large numbers of people because I am too small and selfish and bad.

I want to start compiling data on incest survivors. To the best of my knowledge all information about them right now is sketchy at best. I want to understand my tribe. I want to know their stories. I am trying to learn enough programming to put together an information gathering tool as a page on my website. No one else has the data I want. I will have to mine for it myself.

If I want to have a tribe I am going to have to build it myself. That scares the shit out of me. I’m not exactly a charismatic leader–I’m a bitch. It’s not even that I want to lead. I just want to get them together so I can hear them speak. I want them to want to hear me speak.

I’m sad that the support group is so far away. Not sad enough to move to Oakland.

Ok. breakfast.