Remembering is tough. I used to try to force myself, and feel a physical reaction to the effort. I learned the hard way to stop that.
Now I flat out tell my T, "I don't want to remember." She points out that somewhere inside me someone does remember. Some obscured images and sensations are coming back now, slowly, and with more fear than I think I can handle.
I don't know when it's going to end. I've met survivors who have been working for years, and I get the impression that in a sense, it never ends. We just get stronger and stronger being honest with ourselves over enough time. To see a roomful of sexual abuse survivors having fun was one of the most powerful experiences of my life, not least because I was included.
"Telemachos, your guest is no discredit to you. I wasted no time in stringing the bow, and I did not miss the mark. My strength is yet unbroken…"—The Odyssey, translated by W.H.D. Rouse