12:40 PM>David did something today that almost made me cry. He gave me a Blackberry Curve, roses, and a sweet card telling me how much he appreciated my love and support. He told me that it was a thank you gift for helping him out when ever he really needed it.
No one has ever done that before. Not that no one has ever given me a thank you gift, but no one has ever done it in that kind of context. Come to think of it, he's the only person that has ever even bothered to attempt pay me back money that he "borrowed" from me or that replaced anything of mine that he had broken. Usually it's "I can't afford to pay you back" or "you owe me for everything I've done for you" or "you don't deserve to be paid back" and "I'm sorry". No responsibility taken for one's own words and actions, no appreciation or respect for me. The closest I've ever gotten is the ever popular "I'm sorry" gift that's supposed to buy back my forgiveness whether I want it or not.
So... we are making progress. I still acknowledge that it may be an "I'm sorry" gift in a new disguise as old behavioral patterns die hard. But I recognize the progress that it requires to think of such a gift in the first place.
I think reality is starting to hit him hard now that he's found out that I possibly may have been sexually abused when I was younger. I say possibly because I have no real memory of it. I just know that I have grown up displaying all of the symptoms and feeling all of the emotions that they say survivors go through. I have a good idea of who and there's a lot of hints at it that I can recall but I just can't remember the abuse itself if it ever happened. Right now I'm going back and forth trying to figure out if it really happened or if all of these symptoms are due to something else. I've been through everything else, though, and the idea alone that it happened opens up such a torrent of confused emotions that I'm inclined to believe it really did happen and I have somehow blocked it out so well I can't even recall it when I try to. I feel it, though, and have always felt it as far back as I can remember even though I just didn't know how to describe the emotion and felt shamed by it and blamed myself for it. And now... I know I have to bring this up to my counselor, but I don't know if I can bring myself to do it. It was all I could do just to tell David about it. I don't like talking about it. It gives me the creeps, and I'm scared people will see me differently if they know. For some reason I feel like I told someone about it a long time ago and they didn't believe me.
Anyways, I know eventually I will fess up. I probably need for this to get a little less "raw" before I try talking to my counselor about it. Just thank God I have a Xanex prescription to help prevent the inevitable panick attacks.