The Swollen Clit

It just keeps that victimization cycle going. Every time that phone rings and it's that person - those memories come back. Those feelings of fear, dread, guilt, shame, etc... all flood back. Even when you don't pick up the phone or don't answer that text. The simple name of that person flashing on your phone continues to bring up the traumatic memories you experienced when in that relationship.

I blocked my ex. Yet still, when I check my call log on my phone. I still see where he tried to call me but my phone blocked it. Even that little thing, derailed my day and made me feel self conscious. My anxiety is sky high.. Is he outside? Did I turn on my security system at home? Are all my windows locked? Am I safe? Will he try to stop by? Do I need someone to stay the night? Should I go to a friend's house? Etc... the mental questions doesn't stop.

In all honesty, the anxiety never stops after a abusive relationship. Your heightened to every little thing. New cars in the neighborhood, looking at the drivers of similar cars as your abuser, every noise outside your home becomes serious. You take a different route to work. You think about changing cars, selling your home, moving to a different state. You think about every possible thing you can do to distance yourself from that person. There is so much more that changes your core being, how you live, and how much you trust others that I had to learn to deal with after leaving my abuser. It's scary. It's paralyzing at times. It's overwhelming. And ultimately, it's a lifetime process of self preservation after moving on from a abusive situation.

Side note: I'm still uncomfortable with calling myself a surviver or a abuse victim but my therapist says it's good for me not to minimize my experiences and I need to work on my own validation of what I went through.

Yes. At first, I thought - maybe I'm like Mary, Jesus's mom, and I'm having a weird early pregnancy symptoms. Not very likely, but I still thought about it... maybe a little to much... it would be cool though being a mother of a cult leader. Unfortunately I doubt that is in my future.

Then, I thought maybe it's my diet. I mean, I am eating like a fucking trash college student who got drunk at 3 am and is now causing a hold up in the McDonald's drive through line because I got 4 breakfast sausage burritos and I wanted 5, but I digress... So, I know that needs to change. I decided to add more fruits to my diet and try to cook a healthy meal at least once a week. We need to start small, am I right? Maybe even stop overeating before bed ..... one step at a time...

Ultimately my thoughts lead me to my physical activity - I'm a lazy hoe. I love my bed and couch. I love my tv ubscriptions and my blankets. I know I need to go on walks and move those muscles around because - humans - apparently that's the only way to get rid of this foopa (grabs stomach and jiggles it). I know objectively being a lazy hoe and expecting to have a healthy body is never going to happen.

Any spare motivation anyone? One spare motivation please. Let's me real... give me 2...

Anywhos, long story short. My soon to be 25 hear old self, is coming to terms with the fact that body is changing and I can't treat it like that unused condom I have been saving in my wallet for 5 years. Ignoring it will not solve anything. I have to push myself to leave my house, walk around, and eat less fried chicken and mashed potatoes.

The struggle is real. Will these goals intern heal my depression and increasing anxiety? Probably not. But I sure as fuck will blame myself and my efforts, when they don't.

Let me explain myself. I never wanted children to begin with. I went through my early twenties believing I am destined to be alone and childless. Everything I am passionate about is inappropriate, I am always making untimely statements, analogies, and facts, and I'm generally just a weird and awkward person. I never could have imagined I would fall in love with an amazing man who had 3 gorgeous children. They are 7, 8, and 14.

Suddenly, I'm finding myself in this unique position where I am no longer by myself. Its not my house, my things, my routine, my freedom. All of that is now with the consideration of the other; either my partner or the children. It is not just me anymore. Its me, my partner, plus 3. An almost overnight change that no one can prepare anyone for.

Don't get me wrong. I love the children. I love taking care of them. I love learning their personalities and preferences. I love helping them decorate their rooms, teaching them life skills, helping with homework, and making important memories with them.

I am not going to lie - it feels overwhelming even with the positives.

Gaining the children's trust is a continuous struggle (bio mom does not like me). Learning the boundaries as a step mom is sometimes heartbreaking (lots of me crying in closets). Getting credit for all my new found emotional labor is like pulling teeth (a thankless job).

Not only do I feel like I was thrown in the deep end with nothing to stay afloat on but there is always the added weights that come with being a step mom. The children not accepting me as a step parent or authority figure. The partner not understanding being a step parent is especially hard and consistently reminds me that I need to do more and I'm not doing enough for him and the newly formed family. My commitment and dedication is always in question. I'm not only thrown in the deep end, I'm also trying to navigate through these rocks while staying afloat long enough to catch a breath.

Causing my muscles to loose their elasticity and it influences muscles near/around it to do the same.

Meaning it will influence other muscles.

And

Developing in chronic lower abdominal pain, pain in your pelvic floor (the muscles layers around your ovaries and into the vaginal canal), and fucks up my digestion.

Oh! And also, lower back pain because your pelvic floor muscles connect to them!

So essentially, my stomach, pussy, ass, and back is in consistantly pain. Not only that but those muscles have spasms where they suddenly decide to pull a charlie horse. Can someone insert a picture of Kim Kardashian crying here because - yes - fml it hurts like hell.

My bowel movements are all fucked up. My hunger is all fucked up. I'm soo anxious to have sex because it hurts like hell. Imagine a jackhammer trying to brake cement - that's how it feels like for me to have sex. Even though I want to!! I'm ready for it mentally, but my body doesn't know how to relax because I sucked in my fucking gut for 20 years.