Contaminated

I figured it out.  Showers are a trigger.  I threw out my body wash thinking that was the trigger.  The stuff you chose and bought me.  That wasn’t it.

I go into the shower to get clean.  To wash the spit-up, rotten milk, peanut butter and boogers off of me.  I end up feeling grosser.

I usually end up with getting so angry in there that I end it quickly and jump out.

There are a lot of intimate memories associated with the shower.  A lot of intimate memories that have been compromised.  I am no longer the only one that has exposed themselves, letting you see every intimate detail of me, in these past 6 years.  That is no longer something special between you and me.  That intimacy has been contaminated.  Those precious memories have been destroyed.

This must be the reason I almost always end up feeling angry in the shower.  It’s a shame it’s something I have to experience every day.  I feel exposed.  Un-treasured.  Contaminated…ashamed of myself.  I can’t think of those intimate moments anymore without feeling this.  This sadness which turns to anger that you ruined it.  You ruined it for me.  I should feel beautiful as I step into the shower in all my glory.  But I don’t. I feel ugly.  I feel sad.  I feel dirty.  I want to cover myself.  The one who was supposed to love me for all I am, for every nook and cranny, curve, mole, and even the rolls, betrayed me.  I no longer feel beautiful or worthy of any attention.

That darn shower.

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