If you didn’t read my earlier post entitled “goggles of men”, please read it now…it will help put this post in context 🙂
This is a goggle update, part typed-part sharpie-fully fabulous and totes fascinating. *TW here (as usual with a lot of my writing because I choose to tell the truth without sugar coating).
The “underwater swimming bloke wearing goggles in swimming pool” sitch is continuing to cause havoc in the summerSHINES world of PTSD post-sexual assault.
Welcome to my lair.
PTSD dragons lurk here.
This is my place. I never chose this…
Even when Summer braves public swimming pools, her PTSD dragons come with her.
If you have ever been sexually assaulted (and that counts for men or women,) you will understand what a sensitive area the genitals are.
Yes, I did say GENITALS.
That’s because I’m being factual.
I am extremely genitally sensitive.
I require a lot of personal space to feel safe, and don’t like my circle being invaded because people who get within arms length of me could conceivably touch me in intimate places they’re not permitted to touch, non-consensually, with no awareness of boundaries and respect and the fundamental human right to sexual consent….
….Well I say no awareness, yes of course my abusers were aware of boundaries and sexual consent and the utter wrongness of sexual activity between adults and children, but they choose to subvert that and do what they wanted to anyway. This is a shocking video on two paedophiles excusing paedophilia!
I learned as a sexually abused child who was vaginally and anally penetrated (among many other traumas,) that I have no right to privacy. No right to say no. No right to stop an adult touching me. No right to say “this hurts”. No right to say “this is embarassing”, “this is humilating”, “this is frightening”…”STOP THIS NOW”.
As an adult in my 3o’s I have had to educate myself that I actually do have all these basic bodily rights, and that I also had those rights back then, but the protective adults who I shared a surname with as well as a bed and home with did not heed those fundamental rights.
They threw away the “this is how you treat a child respectfully and appropriately” rulebook, and burned it on the Halloween bonfire.
Readers who understand about satanic ritual abuse will understand why I’ve referenced Halloween in there.
So as a sexually assaulted person I don’t like anyone getting anywhere near my genitals, unless they’re married to me. And I wasn’t always that keen on him getting near my genitals for that matter. I’ve had to learn to enjoy sex with the man I love. I’m kinda there now, but sometimes PTSD still creates intrusion.
I also need to track where people are, and any sudden movements scare the shit out of me.
Anyway, if any person is positioned within touching distance of my genitals they are perceived by my brain as a threat to me, especially if they are a man.
This is not a rational assessment based on logic. This is my reptilian primitive brain calling the shots, trying to learn from the past to keep me safe in the present and the future.
People with PTSD have excessive over-activity in their back brains (the reptilian primitive part of the brain) and under-activity in their pre-frontal cortex (the more sophisticated logical reasoned part of the brain). That is what PTSD is in simplified form.
PTSD is a structural difference in someone’s brain that results from trauma. People with PTSD are not choosing primitive over-reaction to threat. It is an inevitable by product of trauma. No one, and I really mean no one, can escape trauma without structural brain alteration. So having PTSD is therefore NOT emotional weakness. It is inevitable. It is biological. And it fucking makes sense in light of what we went through.
Trauma is something that is an inescapable threat to your personal integrity with potential loss of control/even loss of life itself.
My life was threatened. I’ve had weapons threateningly rested on my body. I’ve felt blades physically touch me. My trauma was vicious, organised, ritualised, public, humilating, painful, twisted, sadistic, in front of an audience, executed by multiple perpetrators. I also experienced one-to-one abuse in my own bedroom. Incest. And strangers. All sorts of shit. Sudden attack too. Rape. All were threatening and traumatic in different ways and can’t really be compared.
So as you’d expect, my threat centre in my brain is gonna be wired differently than someone who has not had those experiences. It doesn’t take a genius to realise I will be more sensitised to threat in the environment than you are, including threat by gogglers (in my case men swimming underwater several strokes so I can’t see where they are and I worry I will be touched) type triggers.
When the goggler man who is a similar age to my dad comes into view when I’m swimming along happily, in a relaxed bodily state of homeostasis, the reptile brain does something like this….
I told my psychologist about the goggler experiences (there have been two goggler sightings in the pool now). And this is what happened in there therapy room…
All of this chain of behaviours was due to stuff that happened long long ago, but my reptilian brain doesn’t know the difference
And quite frankly, I find this very fucking annoying! But this is my personal journey of healing and there is only one way out.. . THROUGH….
And that involves a lifetime of brave but gradual exposure to goggles of gogglers. All gogglers are potential attackers to me…but I have to re-train my brain so I calm the fuck down 😦
Wish me luck!!!
I so want to ride the smiler rollercoaster at Alton Towers which fits my shiney personality. PTSD dragons land really sucks. This just ain’t the place of choice for a summerSHINERY person.
I’m determined to break out of the land of dragons, and break out I will.
Goggle watch is not forever. It’s temporary. Soon I will walk comfortably within a genitals reach of a goggler and feel safe and secure. That time will come. It just hasn’t happened quite yet.
Keep shining. And keep safe 💛💛💛