A Day in the Life... of an Incest Survivor

So, what does it mean to be an incest survivor? SURVIVAL.

I survived. I am a survivor. That's what I do...whatever life throws at me, I survive.

I did whatever I had to do each and every day to survive that day, to live to see the next day. No matter how degrading, abhorrent, or painful...I did what I had to to survive. I am proud of that. I was strong, and I survived. I am also ashamed of some of the things I did to survive. Ashamed, deeply ashamed of what was done to me, of the loss of myself as a person, of the loss of my voice.

But, now I am beyond those days. I am over it. Right?
Am I?
Will I ever be?

To this day, even married to a wonderful, loving, caring, understanding man, whom I love dearly and deeply, I have a very hard time with intimacy. Emotional intimacy, physical intimacy... It doesn't matter.
I prefer to be alone.
Alone is safe. Alone is peaceful.

I guess, after so many years of having to worry about and cater to my fathers "needs', that I just could really care less about spending the rest of my life worrying about anyone else s needs. For example; I could very happily live the rest of my life without sex. Truly. I might masturbate on rare occasions to relieve stress or pressure or whatever, but, sex with a partner.. uh uh. Don't need it. Really pretty much don't want it. And feel VERY pressured to "perform" as it were when my husband is in the mood. Does he pressure me? NO. Not knowingly. The pressure is entirely my childhood haunting me. In other words, its all in my head.

Knowing and understanding that does not make it easier. Knowing that does not make me enjoy sex.

So, what's the answer? And, as long as I live feeling this way, am I truly a survivor?

I wonder if I will ever truly get over my childhood. Will I ever be capable of giving to my husband as he deserves? I wonder if I will get past it once and for all.
Which really and truly pisses me off beyond words. It happened. For a long time. It was terrible. But... IT'S OVER!! So, why the hell can't I get over it already? Why can't I suck it up and deal? Why can't I just relax and enjoy touching and being touched?

Why must I always fight and fight and fight this internal battle with myself whenever I feel that my husband wants sex? Weeks of putting him off, making excuses, hiding the real feeling of utter panic. Finally giving in when I get to the point that I feel completely pressured and frustrated with the need to give him what he needs. I feel resentful. Angry. Ashamed. Frustrated. Irritated. Why can't I get past this?
He does not deserve this.
He deserves someone so much better and healthier than I am.
I wish I were better.