When I think about holes in my past, chunks of events that are gone, black, holes in my mind, I feel like I'm being pulled underwater. I feel heavy, the waves rolling over me, the tide pulling me deeper and deeper out. Ironically, I remember where this feeling originated.

I was around four, one hand holding my older sisters and the other holding my dads as we walked out into the ocean. As kids, our goal was always to get past the breaking waves, to the places where the water rolled and swayed. I don't remember seeing the wave coming. One second we were holding hands and the next I wasn't. I was underwater, watching the swirls of sand around me as the wave tore at the ocean floor. I began tumbling and rolling, as the wave pulled me into darker waters. Then out of nowhere a hand pulls me up by the arm and drags me back to dry sand. It was my dad. He looked exhilarated. My sister was already well up on the beach. She looked terrified. Both were soaked, their hair full of sand. I obviously wasn't the only one knocked down.

I've been to the beach many many times since then and have since been knocked under more times than I can count by waves, but the feeling from this time stuck with me. When I try to remember holes in my past, events I know were off, I know were wrong, I get sucked back under the wave. I feel the wave rolling over me, heavy, dark. I feel myself drowning, tumbling and rolling into darker waters.

I'm building up the courage to see a therapist. I've tried before, but was too anxious to tell my therapist anything useful. I denied any past trauma, cutting, suicidal thoughts, etc. I feared her reaction. I didn't want her to force me into an inpatient program or commit me - not because I don't think I need it, but because I don't want my husband to think I'm crazy or to look down on me. If I went into an inpatient program, he'd obviously start asking questions.

My husband (lets call him Randy) is from an ideal, middle class suburban family. He doesn't understand domestic violence. Abuse is not in his vocabulary. When I met him, I'd been living on my own for 5 years and had been taking care of myself much longer than that. He was my opposite, he was in college, completely reliant on his parents, and receiving weekly care packages from his mom. Despite our very different backgrounds, we formed a strong bond and have been together for ten years. He knows that I don't get along with my mom and that I avoid my brothers, but he doesn't know why and he doesn't push it. I don't want him to find out. I don't want him to be disgusted by me.

Another issue I have with seeing a therapist is that everything is jumbled in my head. In the past couple of months, I've been getting flashbacks, anxiety attacks, and nightmares. I've been remembering things I'd completely forgotten. Many of these flashbacks are in bits and pieces. I don't understand what they mean and find them difficult to describe. I tried ignoring these, but, not surprisingly , that doesn't work.

These flashbacks are effecting my job. I cannot concentrate. I'm not sleeping at night. I've been skipping work and completely avoiding confrontations with my bosses and clients. I'm surprised I haven't been fired yet... but I'm rambling and going off topic.

I'm starting this blog to jot down what I remember from my past. If I collect these memories, and write them down, then maybe I can organize the confusion in my head enough to describe my experience to a therapist. I probably still won't tell my therapist everything, but I need to start somewhere to clear my mind. I've been scaring myself and I need help.

If you read my blog, please feel free to leave comments. Any suggestions on how to find a good therapist are welcome. I'm posting here because I know people have had similar experiences and can understand.

Testing.