Years Of Wait For Those Pair Of Nipples
- 3 years ago
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My therapist called me back early Thursday morning. She wanted to make sure I was really doing okay with what I had found. I knew she was busy and that time on the phone was not her normal routine. But she was really good about it and asked some questions and I went into some details.
I was reassuring her (imagine that!) that I was really doing okay and our normal weekly Wednesday would be fine. We hung up.
About 20 minutes later she called me back. She had a cancellation at 3:45pm. She just wanted to offer it to me if I thought I would like to come in.
I said sure. Why not.
We sat and she asked a couple questions. Then asked me about my original question as I had mentioned her disclaimer in the voicemail.
I explained that somewhere in there, so long ago, was an early trigger for my hidden darkness. That little girl, and I, had suffered such horror and pain at 10 years old. She reassured me that she was much more qualified to deal with victims than perpetrators. Ahhhh, then I realized what she had meant all along.
I only broke down a little bit in going over the details. She offered me a glass of water. I happily took this proffered drink. She let me go on as I related the details which seemed so fresh after 43 years in hiding.
She knew where I had been a year ago. She knew we had covered many topics. Some hard. Some silly. But never as dark as this.
We both were able to conclude this was no dream. Not some sudden variation of the same.
I was able to show actual fear at the vision I had seen. The poor, helpless girl, laying in the pit while they lowered me onto her. She looked different. At 10, I had no concept of the difference. I was terrorized that perhaps they were going to cut me off like they had done to her. I knew I didn't have a hole. She did. And it mortified me to my core.
I believe that is why I was freaking out so much.
We sat and talked for a good half hour before I calmed down enough to also mention my wife.
I realized that the other major factor in my darkness is my inability to let the affair go. I tell myself to. I actually can put it out of my mind for days at a time.
Then my wife will mention she has to work late. Or is going out to dinner with friends on Friday.
I forgave her. She forgave me. But if I cannot let it go. No matter what demons are hiding in there we have very little chance of staying together.
I need to rest. This is draining and theraputic at the same time.
I will start on book 2 on Saturday. I will make the time as my therapist did recommend writing it all out to clear my mind and fight these demons.
At 100 words exactly discounting title and byline, have I finally found a story format with which I can contribute to this wonderful community? With thanks to Dove for instigating the stream of drabbles and the usual disclaimers as well as permission for Saphire, Fictionmania, and any free site I present: Years Of Pain by Robin Foster The years of pain were finally over. After hormones and therapy and electrolysis and surgery and more therapy and sexual reassignment surgery,...
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