Leather Couch

I don’t like facing my triggers. My defense mechanism has always been to run from them, for as long as I can. Eventually they go away or I just spend the rest of my life skipping and hopping around, avoiding the triggers so I don’t have to deal with them.

There was a period of time over a decade ago that I was in an abusive relationship. Of course, I was left mentally and emotionally damaged from it. Over time, I’ve identified the triggers left behind from that time in my life & I spent so much time running from them that I never really healed.
Fast forward to earlier this week when a leather couch entered my life for the first time in thirteen years.

Most people are like, what’s the big deal? It’s just a couch; a piece of furniture.

Well, the type of couches in the room I was mostly abused in, were leather. They’re one of the many things my mind has tied negative thoughts and feelings to, and one of the things I’ve never dealt with or healed from because I just thought ‘Okay, I just won’t own a piece of leather furniture, ever’.

But alas, here we are. A completely different leather couch was offered to my husband and I earlier this week, for free. He showed it to me, and my stomach sank. We’ve been talking about replacing the couches we already have, because they’re not very comfortable. Plus, free is free, how could I say no?

I did briefly mention my aversion to leather couches and why. He understood. But in an effort to try and associate positive memories to leather couches, we had it brought over to us yesterday.

It showed up.

They brought it inside.

And I wanted to throw up.

It’s a nice couch, really. Nothing is wrong with it. It’s dark brown, like our dining chairs. They’ve all said it’s comfortable, more so than the couches we have. I’ll have to take their word for it because it’s been two days and I still won’t sit on it. I can’t yet. I’m not ready.

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