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I see scott almost every day. His son and my son are in the same Kindergarten class and they are best buddy's. I have to control my emotions, flashbacks, panic every day when I pick my boyo up from school. While I'm trying to control all of this, a few comments are usually tossed my way in phrases that only I understand what they mean. Anybody else listening or watching the exchange would just think he was being polite to me or trying to be humorous.
I know differently. Things he says to me are phrased quite carefully so that I know what he means, but nobody else picks up on it.
Example: He bumped into me in the lobby (purposefully I'm sure) and I instinctively, pushed him away to create my own space. He turned towards me and apologized so sweetly for bumping into me, and ramming my back into the door jamb. Then after the apology, he turned and said "Really, that must have hurt pretty bad. Either that, or you have an EXTREMELY high tolerance for pain".
Nobody would have thought much about that because he said it with a smile and a tone that was soft. HOWEVER. He knows damn well my pain tolerance was built to extreme limits by HIM! He did it to me! and he's going to comment on it as though he doesn't know anything about it. He makes me sick.
Thinking alot lately about sex. I hate it. I hate everything about it. I hate everything that a man does to try to turn on a woman thinking it'll get me in the mood. When will he understand I Hate being touched in anyw ay shape or form! I don't want to have a nightmare, flashback panic attack and have my husband hold me to soothe me, only to find he pulls my hand onto his hard-on as though that's supposed to get ME excited???? What the fuck! So now I understandhe wants nothing to do with me if I'm turned on and my misery panic state only aroused him in some sick way.
So.... Did I marry a sicko too? Am I just a magnet? I just don't get it. My entire life I've been told that I could always do better with men. Now I end up in this mess.
Done for tonight. I've said too much. Gnight.