I just recognized that this will be my 100th post.  Another milestone for me.  YAY me!

This morning on my walk I was reflecting on a lot of things.  To be honest, I have had the statistic 1 in 6 running thru my mind all weekend long.  1 in 6 girls are abused.  To me, the thought comes that means 5 of 6 are safe.  5 of 6 are protected from the hurt, pain and scars that abuse leaves.  I am not going to lie, how I wish I could say I was 1 of the 5 that were protected.  Being that 1 of 6 makes you feel very alone.  It's like the 5 are standing in a line and you are the 1 on the side.  I am not going to say I haven't thought that I wished I were 1 of the 5.  I have wished that I would have been 1 that was protected. 

Yesterday, in marriage therapy, it was rough.  My husband is quite confused with things that are going on around him.  I don't blame him, but I am just as confused as he is.  Or maybe I am a liittle more confused than he is, but I also don't want to be the kind of person that says "I am hurting more than you." One of the questions he asked me-flat out- was I using the abuse as an exuse to avoid sex with him?  I sat there, almost dumbfounded, my husband then started asking deeper questions, and the therapist stopped him, as I sat there dumbfounded, and asked my husband to give me a minute to process the question that was asked.  I was grateful for that minute.  I wasn't grateful for the question, but was grateful for the minute that I had a chance to answer.  I know that I have told my husband before the issues that I have had with sex since the first flashback over a year ago, but I guess he forgot.  I did sit there and cry as I explained that I have always considered sex to be very sacred.  The flashbacks are so real.  I have tried to be intimate with my husband, I have tried to use my "mindfulness" skills that I have learned in therapy to be in the moment.  It has been so much work to be in the moment that I go to bed with the worst headaches I have had because it was all I could do to be in the moment with him and fight back the flashbacks. 

The therapist talked about love languages.  My husband feels like he needs to show his love language to me thru touch.  I had to be honest, but the love language of touch right now makes my skin crawl.  Even to feel his breath on the back of my neck makes me crawl.  She tried to explain that to my husband he needs to find another love language for me, and it's not touch, but acts of service.  She then asked me to learn of my husbands love language.  Unfortunately, I am not stupid and his primary love language is touch.  If I can't have that for my own love language, what makes you think I can touch him to show him love?  So, I have to find his secondary love language.  I cried, quite a bit in therapy yesterday.  And, yes, I will probably have  a lot to discuss with my individual therapist on Saturday as I sort thru my own feelings.