During my share yesterday, I started crying. While sharing about the sexual abuse, I completely lost it. The last thing I want to do in a public forum is shed tears, but they would just not abate. I held back for as long as I could and then the dam broke. I don't want to cry about this stuff anymore. I don't want to waste tears on that. I feel like I've moved beyond that time of my life and I want to go forward. Guess my limbic system had other plans.
Interestingly, right before the alarm went off again, I had another dream. In it, I was doing some construction-type work in my kitchen. My mother came in and told me how my cousin (the person who abused me) had suffered a heart attack and died. Unaffected, I continued tearing up the floor boards, and replaced certain areas with new ones. I was a little surprised, on arising, at how callous I was. But, it was just a dream, and I can't be accountable for where my subconscious takes me at night. Loved the analogy of tearing up the floor boards, though.
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