Subject: Re: Therapy - the mental battle as well |
Author: AV
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Date Posted: Wednesday, July 10, 2024, 04:23: am
In reply to:
AV
's message, "Therapy" on Friday, June 07, 2024, 08:28: am
Reflecting back to what was going through my mind as I set on the toilet after given an enema by mom. I can vividly remember thinking about how I was going to release the enema solution without it causing me pain. Remember, the whole point of me holding was due to the pain relating to having a BM. So here I am being forced on the toilet against my will with warm soapy water now in me. There were times I would be crying as well. I just experienced something I did not want. Now I knew I wasn’t going to be able to fight these urges for long but I never felt safe enough to just release. I always held on even after crying “i gotta go i gotta go” over mom’s lap. It was almost like i was still trying to have some control of an uncomfortable situation. I thought I could release a little warm soapy water at a time and eventually empty the warm soapy water out of me and still win this battle without actually having a BM. Never worked. I did relax enough for some warm soapy water to come out but two things were happening that at my young immature age I didn’t realize. One, I was basically coating myself with the warm soapy water making a slippery runway for this 747. Two, the longer I held it, the longer time it had to work on me and soften the BM. The enema wasn’t just soapy water, it was warm soapy warm. Never hot, but very very warm. So that warm mixture of soapy water was softening the BM the longer I held it fighting against my every will of wanting to not release it. So I was really doing the work for the enema and doing mom a favor and not even realizing it at the time. After maybe a couple of releases of warm soapy water, the BM dropped lower into my colon and was ready to be released and I was losing control of releasing any more warm soapy water without the BM coming out. I had to simply take a deep breath and I was expecting pain and nothing else. But that is not what happened. I took a deep breath, gripped the side of the toilet, lifted my legs out, and relaxed to release what was already making its way out of me because I had lost control. Everything in me, the rest of the warm soapy water first came out, then the baseball bat BM like a freight train. I was in this shock mode of releasing my breath, still gripping the toilet, body lifted and feet out, as everything in me just came flowing out. When I lowered myself down, I was breathing for air because it was so traumatic as I literally felt the BM move through my colon and out of me like a snake. It always completely emptied me. Mom always stayed standing by the sink cleaning up waiting and always said, “That wasn’t so bad was it?” I always wanted to say, “yes, yes it was bad.” But I dared not give her another reason to put me back over her lap. I wanted this all over. I can remember my stomach was completely empty and I could suck my stomach in like it was touching my backbone. I was taking deep breaths trying to catch my breath. I was also always so exhausted that a nap was in my near future afterwards. Enemas for me just wasn’t a physical battle with mom and with my body but a mental battle with my thoughts that I always lost.
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