I hate this feeling (edited)

I've been feeling this tense dread at the base of my skull for almost forty years without recognizing it. It's the feeling of resignation to the inevitable detestable abomination. It is the knowledge that I am eventually going to give in to whatever he wants to do to me (with me; my brain wrongly agrees with him that it is what I want, too), of knowing that he won't be so kind as to completely force himself on me, even though he has left me with no way to escape until I yield. No, he's going to make me know that I have chosen to experience that overwhelming rush of the pleasurable release of orgasm, followed by the crushing shame of what I've just done. This is that feeling, that I'm going to end up hating myself, or maybe just that I'm going to prove again how deserving I am to be loathed. He's my mother's boyfriend: how could I do this with him?

I hate this feeling. I can't believe how familiar this lifelong physical sensation of tension in the face of temptation is, without my having ever been aware of it. I completely hate - totally abhor - that I let it be part of multiple behavior patterns, including my worst one.

Now I believe that God is using it as a means of my freedom. Each time I notice it, it reminds me of where my emotions and habits will be taking me if I don't give myself over to my loving Savior in this very moment.

At least, that is how it has been working thus far. If this is how it is to be, it is to become the Maror of my Seder, a pointed reminder of my bitter slavery, now that I have been set free.