Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Handling the Hurt

I can handle hurt.
Everyone can handle hurt.

There are hospitals filled with people handling hurt. There are bathroom floors littered with people feeling, enduring and processing hurt.

I remember the first time Danny hurt me with sex addiction. I even remember the second time. But the third time? I don't remember a third time.
My self preservation had kicked in.

It was a fool me once, fool me twice scenario.
The first time, I was mad at him.
The second time, I was mad at myself.
The third time I started busting my flat butt to make sure he would never hurt me again. Meaning? I did everything in my power to control him.
If I could just keep him from pornography, I wouldn't hurt anymore.

My need for control had nothing to do with DANNY and everything to do with my intense, overpowering fear that I would feel pain again.

I didn't know it, but I was on a hospital bed continually being infected while trying to simply bounce back from the last infliction of pain.

Losing battle.
Losing, losing battle.
Loss is truly prevalent in sex addiction.

I grappled for years on that figurative hospital bed. I fought and fought and fought to control the infection injections.
I tried policing Danny, giving more of myself  sexually than I was comfortable with being more everything... Skinny, interesting, hot...

And I lost myself, my bloom, my youth, my self integrity.
I lost sight of beams in my own eye, and I lived to find motes among my family, especially with Danny.
Not because Danny isn't good enough.
But because I couldn't handle anymore hurt.
I could not.

I knew deep down that I was about to break, and I was desperate to prevent it. I tried to prevent more hurt, more pain by lining up everything around me to be more gentle, more posh, more accommodating.

I didn't understand how to set or carry out boundaries.
I didn't know that it IS within my power to help myself feel safe, to get myself off the hospital bed o' pain.


Speaking up and saying I wasn't safe,
I couldn't handle more pain.
I could protect myself from addiction by walking away from it.

I tried SO hard to wrangle addiction like a baby calf, waiting to be branded... Control it, muscle and master it, best it, beat it, and then sell it off for petty cash.
Well, almost like a baby calf...

All I was doing was engaging it.

It was never about Danny hurting me.
I can handle hurt.
Right now, it's about learning to get off the table and let the squirming calf loose while I walk away to somewhere safe, use my tools, and find peace with God.

Fear makes me crazy.
God makes me Alicia.


  1. Those last two lines had me in tears. Thank you for this.

  2. It looks like we are both climbing off that table right now. We can do it. We've got some good tools.