The road

I had an appointment with my dietitian tonight. We figured out together why my anxiety has been so bad. She asked me to go home and write about it, and then email it to her and my therapist. I did that and now I'm sharing it on my blog. This is probably one of the rawest, honest, and painful essays I have written. So I'm a little nervous about posting it. I'm not asking for anything, just maybe some encouragement, or if you are going through, or have been through something similar, to maybe add some words of wisdom. Thanks.

I have this image in my head that won't leave me alone. I'm walking down the road leading up to the school where the abuse took place. I walk through the big iron gates, past a wooded area, past the soccer field and the play ground, but then the images stop, right before I see the school. I think I am too scared to walk any farther. I don't want to go inside. Why would I? But I don't want to see the iron gates or the soccer fields or the play ground either. Because they remind me of the happy girl I once was. The girl I was before he stole my happiness, my power, and my safety.
When I left Remuda, I didn't think I was scared of him anymore. But I am. He still has power over me, even though it's been 11 years. I know he shouldn't, and I really don't want him to. But the fear he left me with still lives inside me today. I think part of me still feels I was at fault. I have said it and written it many times. That even though I was younger and smaller, I was strong as an ox from gymnastics. I could have pulled away, run away, hit him, or screamed. And I did none of those things, for reasons I may never understand. I think in order to really heal, I need to forgive myself. I don't know how to do that.
The flashbacks are not as intense nor as frequent as they once were, but they are still there. I have learned to deal with them. But the feelings are still so, so intense. Sadness. Pain. Hurt. Fear. Grief. Helplessness. Loneliness. Cold. Dirty. But mostly fear. The sounds and smells of the times he abused me are still very real in my head.
I have been thinking about what happened quite a bit lately. I'm not sure why. Maybe I need to figure that out. I want to talk about it in therapy, but I hold myself back. It's still a very painful place for me to visit, and I hate how hard it is for me to talk about.
I am usually really good at expressing my feelings. But it's hard for me to express my feelings about my abuse. There don't seem to be enough words to fully and truly explain how sad and hurt I feel. I guess I get frustrated by that.
I have been wanting to express my feelings about this for quite some time, but haven't because I'm scared to talk about it. So my feelings about it have been manifesting into anxiety.
I guess I need to talk about it. But I am scared, and I need your help. Because although I can talk about how it makes me feel, I don't know what to do beyond that. I feel stuck.