pain in it's complicated

This pain is a real pain, one that fills me from deep within me. It fills me from the bottom up and weighs me down like concrete and burns like the fires from hell. It hurts in ways that I did not know were even humanly possible. I matched that pain with true fire, burning the evidence that brought me to this place, brought me to these feelings of utter despair.
The thoughts are always whirling around in my brain and I can never seem to keep them straight. Memories work in a strange way and are color-coded and strung together by scents. There are only two ways to get them to make sense but in both cases, the thoughts need to come out. I either need to speak them out loud; talk about them, or I need to be able to write them down. My privacy means so much to me. My ability to control information is my only method to protect myself these days. My physical body is incapable of ever saying no and I am constantly being taken advantage of. My mind can be strong if I keep up these barriers and keep up these roadblocks if only I can keep everything straight in my brain.
I have kept a handwritten journal for as long as I can possibly remember. My room in my parent’s house still has bookshelves that store the contents of my teenager thoughts, day by day, year by year. The idea of reading someone else’s most personal thoughts is confusing. Places online like here I write and I am honest but I am also cognizant of what I am saying and exactly how I am saying it. I do filter myself online then I would in my journals that I kept with me. For a very long time, I would be sure to hide my journal from prying eyes, mostly my husband who has boundary issues. My husband who has previously gone online to a different online journal and read through it, read through my years of entries, years of thoughts and opinions with zero context. I was 350 miles away, he was in my apartment (drunk) spending hours reading these things that he had zero right to. This destroyed me. This was an emotional curveball that I had not been prepared for. How could one even begin to prepare themselves for that? Here I am, 7 years later and I am in the same situation except that this time my husband has read my personal & handwritten journal. The one with the thoughts that no one else knows. The one with the thoughts that would scare people if they read them. The one that explains my demons, confronts my demons, the one that holds my secrets and despair. My most personal thoughts.
Recently he made a promise not to read it ever. Specifically came to me to explain that especially after the last time he completely understood how important it was for me to be able to have that space for me to put all of my thoughts. Just as pretty much else is in my life this has been ruined for me. He read it. I can no longer keep the most important thing to me and my own sanity. It’s been tainted. It’s been ruined.
My brain is honestly so fucked up in the first place. I have been destroyed so many times over the years and being able to cope with the pain of loss and the ability for me to be able to process emotions and handle them properly is a daily challenge. This was the only way I had figured out to be able to even begin to process. I have been so betrayed by my own privacy. I do not understand why privacy is viewed as optional. It’s not.
My soul is truly crushed and I feel violated by someone that I am supposed to be able to trust but I cannot. I feel so unbelievably alone right now. When I sit and actually think about what this means in my life it is honestly devastating.
Immediately after I found out that this had happened I took every journal that I had and I put them in the firepit in my backyard and I burned them all. There is no trust now. None. It would not be possible for me to have a journal in my own home with my husband right now without becoming entirely too anxious about it. As I watched them burn I wept. I sat on my back stairs watching them all go up in flames and the smoke blow away and I cried up until I could barely breathe. This pain, this hurt I can physically feel in my chest. It is destroying me completely.

Last updated March 19, 2019