I started trying to write this post about 10 days ago, and I could not do it. I was really triggered and I could not put into words the panic I was feeling at the time. On March 25, I had just finished writing a post for this blog when my stomach started feeling really off really fast and my mouth started watering. Oh, yes. To my horror, the stomach bug had hit me. I prayed that I would just feel nauseous and fall asleep and wake up feeling better in the morning. But, no, within 15 minutes, I was dry heaving. Within 30 minutes, I was vomiting. Ugh. I would take 10 colds over one stomach bug. So vomiting to me is a sentence worse than death. My parents often commented when I was a child, and continued commenting into my adulthood, that they never wanted vomiting children. What kid does not puke? Some days, I really wish, they would have gone with that original thought and made sure that I was not born. This comment was made every time I threw up when I was a child, and I threw up a lot. I threw up when I was sick. I threw up when I was stressed. I threw up when the abusers made me swallow their gross and disgusting bodily fluids. (Sorry if this is too much information). I threw up blood when I got an ulcer when I was 10. I threw up when I got migraines (the first one at age 11). And I threw up when my mother decided I was too fat and made me swallow syrup of ipecac when she thought I ate too much. And every time I threw up, I was in trouble and was told how gross and disgusting I was. And that is all I could think about and flashback to the entire 8 hours I dry heaved and vomited. I kept hoping that nobody would hear me and nobody would see me. During my last two sessions with MT (my therapist), we have been discussing this belief I have that I am gross and disgusting. I often think that I must be innately gross and disgusting because of the abuse that happened to me. I must be gross and disgusting to have somebody decide to do that stuff to me. And I often think that I am gross and disgusting because of the abuse. I eat and have eaten for a good portion of my life to try to keep people out because I am scared of people. Who knows who the next person to hurt me is? And I think that my body makes me gross. And I think that the stuff my body does makes me disgusting. I work really hard to make sure people can’t tell how gross and disgusting I am. I will not leave the house without a shower and washing my hair. I will not wear clothes with a stain. I must brush my teeth and put on deodorant before leaving the house even if I did that just a couple of hours ago. I will not wear a piece of clothing more than once without washing it. I am kind of reading this from outside myself and seeing that it does not make a lot of sense. But, it is hard to just sweep this notion from my head. If my own parents thought I was gross and disgusting, might it not be true? This stuff is so hard. We are working hard on it in therapy. I may not win this battle this time, but I will eventually. I will win this war.