Trigger ain’t just Roy Roger’s horse

I’m feeling weird. Not sure why just uneasy about a few things. I watched a show the other day and there was a part about a man who was causing women pain sexually. He said the pain was there as a reference for the pleasure. I immediately threw up.

I’m not one to be bothered by such things. I love violent movies and horror films and so forth. Nothing like that bothers me because I know the difference between reality and fantasy. But I literally threw up.

I didn’t know what {D} was and to find out the extent of it, it’s hit me funny. I mean he was enjoying hurting me, I know that. He told me he enjoyed it. But there is just something about that being a thing he sought out in his life. I mean it’s one thing to maybe practice it at home, but he was going out to the bdsm clubs. I really wonder what started that for him. Was it the first rape in college? Was it something else?

I just don’t get it.

He told me once that “ropes are kabuki.” It’s all about control, and he told me he had full control of me. So is it control or is it pain? I don’t quite understand it. Rape is supposedly all about control. I just can’t put these pieces together yet.

It’s just icky. I don’t have another word for it besides icky. Thinking about it makes me nauseous. Hearing about it makes me nauseated. Gross.

This affects me in weird ways. Every time I have to call a client in Vermont at work and I see the 802 area code, I get a little ting in my body. The very common name {D} has also does that to me. It’s the little things like that that remind me when I’m not otherwise thinking about it that keep it coming back. I can’t live my life having flashbacks every time I see an area code. I can’t puke when I see a rape scene every time, though I am actively going to avoid shows and movies that portray that. Triggers I guess. Never thought I would ever be one to need trigger warnings. I generally think that most ratings and trigger warnings are for the weak. I have clearly just been a judgmental assclown most of my life.

I don’t know. I don’t know how to deal with the flashbacks and the thing in the stomach. I had to fire my therapist today because we just weren’t clicking and she did not know how to handle someone with my trauma history. I really liked my last therapist but he went into his own practice and doesn’t take my insurance. He was a neuropsychologist who worked with trauma. They’re trying to find me another therapist now. I also have serious abandonment issues so this is an unfortunate turn of events.

I’m going to go back to work and try not to puke now when is see his name or area code or anything that reminds me of him.