I went to a new gym last night. I wanted to check it out while I'm in town in case I move back to this area. I can't quit JiuJitsu. It's been that one thing that, for better or worse, keeps me going, keeps me sane. Sometimes it really fucks with my head. Sometimes I feel unmotivated. Sometimes I feel triggered. Sometimes I feel worthless. But always, I ground myself and go.

At this new gym, we practiced something called a short choke. In the year I've gone to your gym and mine, I haven't seen or practiced this. You probably know it, though. It's basically a choke that crushes the esophagus with the forearm. We also did neck cranks and bow-and-arrow chokes.

So today my throat hurts. Every swallow brings back memories.

I think of you, when you were my boyfriend. When you choked me so hard I nearly passed out. When I was afraid of you, but couldn't tell you why. When I went to work the next day and my throat hurt so much and all I could do was think of you and feel... Ashamed. Afraid. When I continued to train with you despite not knowing how I felt touching you.

I think of you too, a stranger. A man who held me down and forced me to do things. I think about spitting up blood in the sink. I think about running into you on the sidewalk and nearly blacking out from fear alone.

I think of you, as well. I remember a friend of a friend that I met at a party. I remember telling you I didn't want to do anything. I remember your hands on my throat. I remember pain and fear and shame.

Shame, shame, shame. Always shame.

I still get my ass handed to me on the mat. But I'm growing stronger. I think. I hope. I'm still afraid of every man that I know. I still flinch at touch. I still cry when I think about how all I want to feel is love, but how all I know is pain.

With every breath, I think of you. With every breath, I refuse to give up.